


Kicked From Inside

by Stella_Notecor



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 18:43:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 32,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_Notecor/pseuds/Stella_Notecor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drugged by aliens with an aphrodisiac that impregnates males is NOT how Jim Kirk imagined falling into bed with his first mate. That's exactly how it happens though, and dealing with the consequences--including an angry girlfriend, a pointy-eared baby, and a chief-medical-officer who's against the whole thing--will force Jim and Spock together, whether they like it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  


**Chapter One**

  


_Life is tough enough without having someone kick you from the inside. ~Rita Rudner_

  


Spock accepted the food tray gingerly. It appeared to be standard prison rations of bread and water, as was often found in societies that had not yet come to understand the concept of humane treatment of prisoners.

The guard moved across the hallway with another tray. Jim took his portion silently, and they both waited as the guard walked back down the corridor and out the door. He glanced back at them through the barred window, then walked away.

Jim frowned at his plate. "Bread and water? Seriously?"

Spock set his tray down on the floor. There was nothing in the cell except a toilet, which was merely a large wooden pail, and a cot with a single sheet. His sleep suffered enough without getting crumbs in his bed.

He picked up the cup first. It was carved from wood, and appeared typical of the other instruments they had seen on the planet. He sniffed it. The liquid inside had no scent. He carefully dipped a finger into the cup. When he pulled it out, a drop of the colorless liquid dropped back into the cup. The liquid did seem to be water, and it didn't seem to have been tampered with.

"My water appears safe," said Spock.

Jim nodded towards his own water. "Yeah, mine's fine too. Are you gonna try the bread?"

Spock eyed the bread. It did not appear to have been tampered with, but it was old, judging by the slight tinge of green mold on the crust. They had only been in captivity for eighteen hours. He could survive fifteen more days without food easily, thirty if he conserved his energy. "I am not that hungry."

Jim smirked. "I know what you mean." He held his cup up in Spock's direction. "Bottoms up." He took a sip of the water, nodded, then drank the rest in a few long gulps.

Spock followed suit, testing the water with a small sip. It tasted like water. He drank it down slowly, savoring it. His body conserved water well, but eighteen hours was a long time for even a Vulcan to go without. He set the cup back on the tray, then moved it to the far corner of his cell. He hadn't seen any rat-like animals on the planet, but the society was so undeveloped that he doubted they had learned how to keep the creatures out of buildings yet.

Jim did the same thing with his tray. He took a seat on the edge of his cot nearest the hallway. "So, when we started this mission, did you think you'd get to experience life in an eighteenth century jail cell?"

"On Vulcan, jails such as this had been long eradicated by the eighteenth century."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Oh, you know what I mean. My world history textbook in eighth grade had a picture of an English jail that looked just like this one." He patted the bed. "Straw-filled mattress and all."

Spock nodded. "I have seen similar images. The rudimentary technology on this planet leads me to believe they are at a comparable level of technological and social development."

With a huff, Jim collapsed back on his bed. "It's so hot in here. Obviously they haven't invented climate control yet."

The room felt cool to Spock. He estimated the temperature to be 18.4 degrees Celsius. "Do you have a fever?"

Jim moaned. "No, I'm just so hot, all over." He stood up in a single, swift movement and stripped off his shirt. "It's still too hot." He toed off his shoes and then tugged his pants down to his ankles. When his hands went to the waistband of his underwear, Spock looked away. He caught a glimpse of the guard peering through the barred window before he disappeared from view.

He looked back at Jim a moment later when he let out a horrible whimpering sound. He was standing in the middle of his cell, pants and underwear around his ankles and a hand on his erect penis. Spock turned away. "Captain, clothe yourself. This is inappropriate."

"Spock..." Jim groaned. "I need you, Spock. I'm so hot..."

Spock could hear Jim's hand slap against his skin as he masturbated. He closed his eyes. Jim was a bold and lust-driven person, but this was not something he would do if he were in his right mind. "You have been drugged."

Jim's response was a wordless moan that sent shivers up Spock's spine—good shivers. Spock clenched his fists. There must have been something in the water. His own penis was hardening rapidly.

"Spock..."

Spock clenched his hands tighter, his short nails digging painfully into his skin. He focused on his breathing. In, out. In, out.

"Spock!"

Jim's cry startled him and he turned in time to see Jim's ejaculate splatter across the floor. Jim clung to the bars of his cell with one hand, the other hand still wrapped around his erect penis. Spock felt overheated. Jim stared at him with glazed eyes. His hand began to move, starting the stuttering pattern of wet slaps again.

Spock watched as the tip of Jim's penis appeared and disappeared into his palm. Every fifth or sixth stroke, Jim would pause to run his palm over the weeping tip and gather up some precum. Then he would return to the pattern, thumping his hand back and forth.

Spock's penis throbbed in his pants. Fully erect now, it begged to be touched. Spock restrained himself, clasping his hands behind his back so he could not use them. "Captain, you must stop this. Article 26-9, Section B states that commanding officers should never--"

Jim cried out, his grip on the bar tightening until his knuckles turned white. He ejaculated again, spraying his semen on his pants. His hand never stopped moving, and after a few moments of panting, he was back to moaning incoherently.

Turning away, Spock forced himself to focus on the toilet pail in the corner. He let the scent fill his nostrils. His erection flagged. He walked forward and stared at the pile of excrement some other prisoner had left behind. His arousal plummeted.

“Spock!”

Spock’s mind wandered at the sound of harsh pants. If he touched Jim, would his skin be soft? How would his penis feel in Spock’s hand? It was average length, but it seemed thick…

Spock shoved those thoughts into a cage. Utter nonsense. He had never been with a man, and he never would. While he found males of most humanoid species appealing, he also desired women. More importantly, he was particularly attracted to Nyota, his sworn-one. They would be meeting a Vulcan healer in less than a week to have their preliminary bond put in place.

Then he would be able to make love to her. He focused his mind on the last time he had kissed her. Recently, she had requested that he make his touches more intimate. On this occasion, he had used his fingers to bring her to orgasm. He could nearly smell the wet heat of her arousal as he stimulated her through the thin underwear she wore.

“Oh, shit, Spock!”

Spock forcefully brought the memories of the evening to the forefront of his mind. Her pleasure had felt beautiful beneath his fingertips. He had wanted so much more though. He wanted to feel exactly what she felt.

His erection throbbed, and he allowed himself to unbuckle his pants and touch it through his briefs.

They had only just begun their romantic relationship when the Vulcan Tragedy occurred. In the year and a half since, their relationship had slowly progressed, but their positions on board the Enterprise had left them little time to deepen their relationship. Still, they had made time to be together, and Spock had asked her to be his sworn-one. They were intellectually and physically compatible, and he believed that marriage would benefit their relationship.

Uhura agreed to marry him, and over the past two months, their relationship had become intimate, though he had not yet copulated with her. She respected his culture’s tradition of not having intercourse until the first bond was in place, which he appreciated. Just as he appreciated the curve of her hips and the way her breasts fit perfectly in his hands…

“Spock!”

What was Jim doing to elicit moans like that? Surely even drugged masturbation couldn’t feel that good.

Spock zipped his pants back up. He was so hard it hurt, but the only remedies available to him were time and repulsive thoughts.

From the moans, Spock believed Jim was close to climaxing again. The wet slaps had sped up, and the near constant moaning of his name grew more garbled every second. If Spock strained, he could hear the harsh pant of Jim’s breathing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He would retain control over his body.

Something clanged.

Spock turned toward the noise. A tall, well-dressed man entered the hall, followed by the guard.

The well-dressed man stopped in front of Spock’s cell. He blatantly took in Spock’s arousal. “I see the drug is affecting you.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jim, who was watching quietly, though his hand hadn’t stopped rubbing his cock. “Though, not as much as your friend there.”

“I told you they drank the water, Governor Telif,” the guard whispered, but Spock’s sharp ears caught it.

“What have you given us?” Spock demanded, thankful for the universal translator imbedded in his communicator. They hadn’t been searched well when they were arrested, and he had managed to keep it—though it was practically useless thanks to the natural mineral deposits on the planet that blocked its signal.

Governor Telif sneered. “I didn’t believe my guard when he said you drank the water. No one drinks it, not until they are desperate.”

Spock shook his head. “We thought the water was safe. We did not know you had a tasteless drug. We are from a remote town—”

Telif rattled the door. “Shut up! You’re spies of Potentate Nalen. What were you doing in the gorge? What does he want with it?”

The canyon had been on the outskirts of a small town. Their tricorders hadn’t picked up any lifesigns nearby, but they had picked up lots of polonium, which the _Enterprise_ was dangerously low on. With no choice but to take it from the pre-warp community or end up without warp in enemy space, the choice had seemed obvious.

Until they were captured.

Spock considered the man carefully. “We are not affiliated with Potentate Nalen. We are visiting a relative in the city, and we went for a walk in the gorge.”

Telif’s eyes narrowed. “You are lying.” He glanced at the guard. “Move the other one.”

The guard unlocked Jim’s cell and opened the door. He grabbed Jim by the wrist and tugged him out. Jim protested weakly and flailed around, but the large man simply dragged him over to Spock’s cell.

Uncertain as to what was happening, Spock was shocked when the man unlocked his cell. Moving as quickly as he could, he leapt for the door as it opened, only to be knocked off his feet when Jim was thrust inside. Jim fell on top of him. The door slammed shut.

Jim began writhing on him. Telif shook his head. “Your friend must be extra sensitive to the drug. Usually it takes an hour to get to that point.” He shrugged. “It just means he’ll die in one day instead of two.”

Spock pushed Jim off and climbed to his feet. “What do you require for the antidote?”

“Tell us why you were in the gorge.” Telif pivoted towards the door. “Of course, there’s always the other option.” He grimaced.

“What is the other option?” Spock remained still as Jim stood and began to rut against him.

“Intercourse cures most people, due to the application of semen.” He shuddered. “May The God Above save you should you choose that path.” He nodded towards them. “I’ve no more time to waste on you. Call for my guard if you change your mind.”

And with that, the two men left.

Jim’s hot breath huffed across Spock’s ear. “Spock…” He humped Spock’s hip. “Fuck me. You gotta fuck me.”

Spock shook him off. He could not take part in this. While regulations did not forbid officers from engaging in intimate relations, they did strongly advise against it.

Jim grabbed him by the hand, enabling him to feel the burning arousal Jim was experiencing. Wrapping Spock’s hand around his dick, Jim began to pump his hips back and forth. His dick was velvety-soft, hard and hot. The dark red head looked painfully swollen with blood.

Spock felt the drug more than ever. His heart rate accelerated in his side, and he tightened his grip on Jim, who sighed and collapsed against him, resting his chin on Spock’s shoulder.

“Spock…”

His name on Jim’s lips brought him back to reality. Spock couldn’t take part in this. He still had control of himself. Jim was his captain. They could not do this.

He yanked his hand away and retreated to his bed. He laid down so that his back was facing Jim and his front was pressed tight to the wall. It was the least accessible position in the cell. As he expected, Jim crawled onto the bed behind him and began grinding his cock against Spock’s backside.

Spock crossed his arms and tucked his hands into his armpits. They would surely be rescued within twenty-four hours. Until then, Jim could take his pleasure without Spock’s assistance. At least one of them would keep this professional.  



	2. Chapter 2

  


**Chapter Two**

  


Spock remained in the same position through two hours and five more orgasms on Jim’s part. It wasn’t until Jim began to sob that he rolled over.

Jim lay on his back, tears falling from his eyes and hips humping the air. His cock blazed painfully red.

“Spah…” He gasped for breath. “Spock. Please?”

He had achieved his previous orgasms in twenty minutes or less, but forty-five minutes had passed since the last one. A diagnosis of priapism generally required the patient to have an erection that lasted more than four hours. Jim had not yet reached that point, but Spock knew he would if nothing happened to change the situation.

But engaging in intercourse with his captain and betraying his sworn-one was illogical.

However, stopping Jim’s suffering and avoiding potentially deadly effects of the drug was logical.

Spock had also received the drug, and his own mental state would likely begin devolving soon. Remedying the situation before that could happen was logical.

Finally, saving his captain’s life was logical. Starfleet Command would agree. The crew would agree. Jim’s friends would agree. Even Nyota, though she would be badly hurt, would agree.

Spock sat up in the bed. Jim yelped and thrust his hips up as he brushed against him.

Fornicating with Jim was more logical than illogical, thus they should have sex.

Regulations stated that the captain should not engage sexually with his subordinates until both parties had signed consent and non-coercion forms and had been assessed by a practicing psychologist. However, both Jim and Spock were under extreme duress. Neither of them were capable of acting as captain at the moment.

“Jim,” Spock waited until his captain’s eyes rested on him. “Are you emotionally compromised?”

He barked out a breathless laugh. “What do you think?”

“Captain, are you emotionally compromised?”

Jim blinked at him for a moment, then he nodded vigorously. “Yes, I’m compromised. I’m relieving myself from duty.” He rolled to his side, pressing against Spock. “And you’re compromised too.”

Spock closed his eyes against the truth of that statement. “Indeed.” He raised one hand, then let it fall to Jim’s backside. “I relieve myself from duty.”

With that statement, Scotty became the captain of the ship, as second officer, though he obviously wouldn’t know. And Spock became free to do what the blood burning his veins told him… roll Jim onto his back and begin rutting against him.

He kept his movements short and quick. Each thrust made Jim whimper softly, and Spock soon realized the fabric of his slacks was too abrasive against Jim’s abused skin. He slid his pants and underwear off at the same time, pulling them down to his ankles as he perched on the bed. His shoes precluded him from pulling them off completely, but his movements were unhindered, so he disregarded the fabric pooled at his feet.

Jim thrust upwards, brushing his stomach against Spock’s freed cock. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…”

Their captor had said that intercourse would stop the effects of the drug. Spock would have to penetrate Jim, as he was more in control of his lust and less likely to hurt his partner by proceeding too quickly.

Spock slid his hand along his penis, lingering under the first ridge where he was most sensitive. The lubrication glands were particularly numerous there, and he was able to gather some of his slick fluid. Then he removed his hand from himself and began fingering Jim’s anus.

Jim stared up at him, babbling continuously as Spock began to stretch him. There were no words to his speech, only sounds and whimpers. Suddenly feeling the need to shut Jim up, Spock leaned down and kissed him harshly. Jim’s heart thumped rapidly in his chest, nearly as fast as Spock’s was throbbing in his side. The rush of blood through their bodies was exhilarating and almost painful in its pleasure.

Spock withdrew his hand, certain Jim would be able to accommodate his slim erection. He pressed the head of his penis to Jim’s anus and eased inside. The tapered tip slid in slowly up until the first ridge, where Spock paused. After a strong thrust back by Jim, it popped past the ring of muscles.

Jim and Spock moaned as one. The muscles squeezed tightly around the ring of flesh that hid between his two ridges when he was flaccid. The delicate skin tingled, sending shockwaves up Spock’s back. He thrust back and forth slowly, careful to keep himself positioned so Jim’s anus squeezed that sensitive skin with every movement.

Jim babbled beneath him, one particular word reoccurring often… “Prostate! Prostate, oh god, prostate, oh, oh, oh, oh, prostate, right there, perfect, ah! More, prostate, shit, god, fuck!”

Apparently Spock’s ideal position was perfect for Jim as well. He writhed frantically on the bed, his red penis bouncing around between them. The head left behind dribbles of preseminal fluid whenever it brushed against one of their stomachs. Spock wished he could take hold of the erection and caress it, but it was already painfully inflamed.

Instead, he slid his hand up to Jim’s face. His fingers naturally fell to rest on the meld points, but he paused. “Jim, may I enter your mind?”

Without a mind-touch, Spock could not orgasm. The reason Vulcans waited until they bonded to experience intercourse was due to the overwhelming urge to sink completely into one’s partner at the moment of completion: body, mind, and soul. Keeping his mind and katra separate from Jim’s would be difficult, but since they were not in a relationship, there would be less chance of a spontaneous bond occurring.

Jim moaned and pressed his face against Spock’s hand, but he did not respond verbally.

Unwilling to proceed without consent, Spock stopped moving. Jim whined and wriggled, trying to get some stimulation, but Spock rested his full weight on Jim, forcing him to still.

“May I enter your mind?”

Brilliant blue eyes burst open and locked with his. “Yes.”

Spock sank into Jim. Like quicksand, Jim’s mind grabbed hold. With every thrust of his erection, every burst of pleasure, Jim pulled him in deeper. Their eyes closed, each of them focusing inward.

Struggling to hold back, Spock plunged his penis deeper into Jim, past his second ridge. The resulting position trapped him closer to Jim, as he could only retreat a few inches before Jim’s muscles clasped him and pulled him back.

Vulcans did not panic. Spock would not panic. No matter how beautiful and captivating and glorious Jim’s mind seemed, Spock would hold back. Nyota was his sworn-one. Jim was his captain, nothing more.

At that thought, Jim’s mind seemed to falter. It released him just enough for Spock to pull back to a safe distance.

Able to focus on his pleasure now, Spock found himself approaching orgasm. He thrust his hips faster. Searching the peripherals of Jim’s mind, he was able to locate the nerve endings he needed. Bracing himself, he joined their nervous systems.

Pleasure ricocheted back and forth between them, sending both of them spiraling over the edge. As soon as Spock felt his orgasm begin, he ripped his hand from Jim’s face. He waited until the last pulse of his semen escaped, then pulled out his softening erection.

Jim sucked in a breath at the movement. His eyelids fluttered but remained shut. His erection was diminishing rapidly, semen trailing up his chest from his climax.

Spock stood carefully so as not to trip over the pants still tangled around his ankles. Once free of Jim, he straightened his clothing, drawing up his pants and tucking in his shirt.

He pulled the sheet out from under Jim and used it to wipe him off. He wasn’t overly gentle, but Jim didn’t even stir. His breathing had evened out, and when Spock touched his forehead with a single fingertip, he found that Jim was fast asleep. He draped the sheet over Jim, positioning it so that the soiled parts didn’t touch him. Finally, he took a seat on the edge of the bed.

He monitored his bodily functions. He was cold, but the temperature was bearable. His heart rate had decreased. His psychic connections felt raw and sore due to his link with Jim being disengaged improperly, but he remained unbonded.

In fact, aside from the minor pain of the severed mind meld and the endorphin rush of an orgasm, he felt entirely normal. The drug seemed to have dissipated from his bloodstream.

A noise came from the door. Spock looked up as Telif entered alone.

The man took in Spock and Jim’s positions, and his eyes widened. “Did you…?”

“Yes, we administered the antidote as you described it.”

Telif touched his forehead then moved one hand from his right shoulder to his left and back to his right in a move that appeared ritualistic. “The God Above. You aren’t from the potentate. None of his people would have…” He shook his head. “Please forgive us.”

Spock crossed the cell to where Telif stood. “For what do you ask forgiveness?”

The man backed away from the bars of the cell, dismay in his eyes. “We have cursed you with an abomination.” He made the ritualistic hand movement again. “Your friend is pregnant.”

Spock took a slow deep breath. “Explain.” Human males did not have a place for an embryo to implant. Only one human male pregnancy had ever been recorded, and the “baby” in question had been created solely of alien DNA.

“The drug… it makes the receiver extremely fertile. We usually give it to women who cannot conceive. When a man takes it, he becomes insatiably aroused until he is impregnated. Once the embryo implants, the body begins to manufacture a hormone that renders the drug inert.” He stared at Jim as if he were a ghost. “The child will drain him of life. He will not survive to birth it.”

“I am fine, and I have not been impregnated.”

Telif glanced up at Spock, startled. “You weren’t given the drug.”

“Then why—”

“Only one of you could be given the drug.” He looked away. “If you both received it, you would have lost your senses and copulated. No one deserves to be forced into this. You appeared less likely to succumb to the drug, so we gave it to your friend to pressure you into revealing your secrets.”

 _No one deserved to be forced into this._ His words struck Spock in the gut. He hadn’t been under the influence of any drug. He had chosen to have intercourse with Jim of his own free will. He had betrayed Nyota of his own free will. He had created a child of his own free will.

He forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. “Why administer such a drug? What information could be worth a man’s life?”

“Potentate Nalen is the king of the country to our north. He has long coveted this city, due to the fertile land and rich mineral deposits in the area. The gorge is particularly high in minerals, and we have been monitoring it for the past year, as we have heard many rumors that the potentate has been amassing an army.” Telif’s forehead creased. “We are a small city. I am both governor and sheriff. If we are attacked, we have no one to protect us but ourselves.”

“The leader of your country cannot protect you?”

The man let out a broken laugh. “Our resources mean little to Potentate Benom. He would give us to Potentate Nalen, if enough money was offered. But Benom is still the better option, as he is content to ignore us.”

Spock clenched his hands into fists. “Is your land, no matter how rich, as valuable as his life?”

“No.” He offered his ritual sign again. “The God Above has decreed that life is worth more than anything else. But if Nalen invaded, my people would fight to protect their families. We are not trained soldiers. Many would die.”

“And the lives of the many outweigh the lives of the few.” The logic was sound, though the application of it in this situation was based on misconceptions.

“If we had known you truly didn’t understand…” Telif shook his head. “No one would choose this.” He turned to leave. “I will send someone to release you. I must go to the temple and pray. I have killed an innocent this day.” He left.

Spock grabbed at the bars in front of him. The man was not the only one who had killed that day. He had killed Jim and his own first-conceived child because of his lust.

He forced himself to think. They would be released soon. He had his communicator. He would get them both to the beam-out point and call for help. Doctor McCoy would be able to remove the embryo before it implanted too deeply. Jim would not die.

However, that would not change the fact that Spock had not been drugged when he copulated with Jim. The sex was not consensual.

Spock might not have killed Jim, but he did rape him.


	3. Chapter 3

  


**Chapter Three**

  


Jim woke up in sickbay to find Spock and Bones staring down at him.

“What did I do this time?”

Shockingly, a deep blush spread across Spock’s cheeks and Bones got a rather- nauseous look on his face. The only thing he could think of that would cause that reaction is that he finally told Spock how he felt. Spock probably decked him, landing him in sickbay.

Bones cleared his throat. “Do you remember beaming down to retrieve the polonium?”

Jim thought for a minute. Then the memories slammed into him. “Fuck.”

“Unfortunately, you did that already.” Bones crossed his arms. “And now you’ll have to deal with the consequences.”

“Consequences? Of what? Getting off the planet alive?” Had they broken some kind of regulation getting away? The last thing he remembered was Spock slamming into him and coming.

“Of having unprotected sex.”

Jim sucked in a breath. “Spock, you gave me an STD?” How had Spock even gotten an STD? He’d heard Uhura talking to Christine Chapel once about how Spock wouldn’t go down on her, let alone have intercourse. Had he been with someone else?

Bones snorted. “I suppose you could call a baby that.”

He bolted upright in bed. “Baby? I… what? We’re men.”

Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “The drug was not merely an aphrodisiac. Its main purpose is to increase fertility. Even in men.”

“So, what? I’ve got a baby growing in my butthole?” The thought was too weird to wrap his mind around. Where would it fit? He had to poop. Wouldn’t that just knock the thing out? Or would he have to suffer through nine months of constipation?

Bones picked up a padd and handed it to him. On it was a male body, sliced in half so the organs could be seen. A tiny, pulsing red light seemed to have attached itself to what Jim thought was a liver.

“As far as I can tell, the embryo went looking for the best place to attach. The human liver regenerates better than any other human organ.” Bones took back the padd. “You’re lucky actually. Once we remove the embryo, you shouldn’t have any lasting side effects.”

“No.” The word burst out of his mouth before he could even think. “You’re not removing it.”

While he had never imagined this situation occurring, he knew he didn’t want any kid of his being aborted. Carol Marcus had stolen that decision from him once. No one would take it away from him this time.

Spock’s eyes widened, startled. “But , Jim—”

Jim shook his head. “As women have been saying for centuries, it’s my body. I can do what I want with it.” He gave a small smile. “Don’t worry though, I won’t make you be a dad. I can take care of the kid myself.”

Bones growled. “Jim, you can’t take care of a baby if you die having it.”

“Die?”

“Didn’t you ever wonder why, even in this day and age, men don’t get pregnant?” Bones waved the body diagram around. “It’s because we’re not built for it. Feeding an embryo requires massive amounts of nutrients from the blood. A uterus is full of dedicated blood vessels for the embryo to attach to. Your liver is not. If it connects to the wrong one, your liver will shut down.”

Jim glanced down at his stomach. “How many men have died?”

Bones frowned. “Well… none. Simulations and animal testing both failed repeatedly, so the research was abandoned before it could reach human testing.”

“Then I’ll be the first test subject.”

Bones threw his hands up in the air. “Dammit, Jim!” He turned to Spock. “Tell him why this is a bad idea.”

Jim looked up in time to see a wistful look cross Spock’s face. Then it went stony. “Your health is in danger. You should have the embryo removed.”

“Spock,” Jim gave him a half-smile. “The baby is part Vulcan.”

All three of them went silent for a moment. Since the destruction of Vulcan, every child born of Vulcan descent had been considered a blessing.

As terrible as it was for him to guilt-trip Spock, Jim knew he was doing the right thing. This was his child. He knew what it was like to be an unwanted kid, and he would never let that happen to his baby.

Spock wavered for a long moment before shaking his head. “We do not know if the embryo is viable. Genetics are unpredictable. It could suffer from deformities.”

Jim turned to Bones. “Scan it. With a basic genetic profile, we’ll be able to tell if it’s screwed up, right?”

Bones frowned. “Will you let me remove it if it is?”

He nodded, though he knew he really wouldn’t. Even if the child only lived for a day, he would give it life.

Laying back on the biobed, Jim waited while Bones ran a specialized scanner over him. The data was then loaded into the computer and processed. After a long minute, the results appeared on the screen.

_Gender Chromosomes: XY_

_Fetal Age: 13.2 Standard hours_

_Eye Color: Blue_

_Hair Color: Black_

_Race: 72.2% Human, 27.8% Vulcan_

_Potential Genetic Risks: Propensity for Manic-Depressive Disorder, Propensity for Cancer, Propensity for High Blood Pressure, Propensity for Obesity_

Jim couldn’t help but snicker. “I bet the fat genes are from your side, Spock.”

Both men glared at him.

“It was just a joke…”

“You’re facing death, and you’re laughing!” Bones growled.

Jim shrugged. “Not really.”

Spock’s brow furrowed slightly. “You distinctly made a small noise that lasted 1.47 seconds and which could be described as a laugh.”

Jim resisted the urge to snicker again. “I meant I’m not really facing death.” He gestured to the bio bed he was still sitting on. “This is the best sickbay in the quadrant, staffed by the best nurses and the best doctor.” Bones looked a little surprised, until Jim smirked. “M’Benga is the foremost Human authority on Vulcans, after all.”

Bones thwapped him in the head with the padd. “Shut it.”

Jim stuck out his bottom lip. “No fair hitting a pregnant person.” He rubbed his head.

Instantly, Bones’s irritated look morphed into one of guilt. “Sorry.”

Well, wasn’t that interesting? Bones really was an old southern softie.

“Perhaps M’Benga should be brought in to consult on this case,” Spock spoke up.

“He’s doesn’t know?”

Bones shook his head. “We wanted to keep this between us.” He glanced at Spock. “We didn’t think you’d want the crew to find out what happened on the planet.”

No, he didn’t want them to find out what had happened on the planet, but that was only because he wanted to keep that knowledge to himself. He remembered having Spock buried inside of them, their bodies fitting perfectly together, their minds…

His chest ached. Their minds had fit together so perfectly, just as Jim had expected they would. His connection with the other Spock had shown him how compatible they were, but Spock’s life experiences had left him too far away for Jim to reach. He loved the old man, but only as a father figure.

Old Spock made him feel safe and cared for. His Spock challenged him. He made Jim want to become better than he thought he could be. In a mere eighteen months, he had helped Jim become a captain fit to command Starfleet’s flagship.

He knew Spock had trouble getting close to people. But when Spock had joined their minds, Jim hadn’t been able to stop himself from grasping Spock’s consciousness and holding it close. Bones was Jim’s best friend. Spock was something… more. They shared something beyond expression.

At least, that’s what Jim believed until Spock had thought to himself that Jim was his captain and “nothing more.”

In his mind, Jim was nothing more than a boss. He wasn’t even considered a friend. That hurt, more than Jim wanted to think about.

He gathered his thoughts. “I don’t want him to know. I don’t want anyone to know, not right away. Human women usually don’t share the news till the second trimester, right?”

Bones shook his head. “If we do this, I’m going to need M’Benga to help me figure out if the embryo is developing properly.”

Jim sighed. “Fine. Anything it takes to keep him alive.”

“You’re serious about this?” Bones fixed his gaze on Jim, studying him like a strange readout on a tricorder.

He nodded. “I want this baby, Bones.”

“Alright. But when you hemorrhage to death, I’m going to inscribe your coffin with ‘I Told You So.” He frowned and opened a file on the padd. “You’re going to have to get daily vitamin injections. And we’ll have to start the steroids as soon as it’s safe—hopefully the little guy’s lungs will be strong enough that we can get him out by twenty-eight weeks…”

Bones wandered off, muttering to himself. After the door closed behind him, Jim took a deep breath. “Spock?”

Those big, dark eyes pierced him through. “Yes?”

“You know, if we don’t tell anyone else what happened down there, you don’t have to claim the kid. We’ll be at New Vulcan in a week for you and Uhura’s preliminary bond. I’ll just tell everyone I got knocked up down there. Another weird allergic reaction or something.”

Spock pursed his lips. “I will claim the child as mine. There is no shame in the birth of one who is _Vuhlkansu_.”

“I know, but I don’t want to screw things up for you and Uhura.” As far as Jim could tell, she was the only person in Spock’s life who he was close to. Even Spock’s father maintained a distance, considering he only commed the Enterprise once a month.

And it totally wasn’t weird that Jim knew that—he only kept track of comms from New Vulcan because he always hoped it would be Old Spock on the line.

The stiffness in Spock’s shoulders faded slightly. “I cannot hide the knowledge from Nyota. When we bond, she will know all of me.”

Know all of him? Sounded nice. Of all the people in the universe, Bones and Spock knew the most about him, and even they didn’t know everything. Like how he thought Spock’s cock was fucking hot. Everything about it was insanely awesome: the inhuman green color, the extra bump about halfway down it that felt so good plunging into his ass, and even the natural lubrication that made dry anal sex a thing of the past.

Spock gave him an odd look. He wondered if Spock ever picked up random thoughts without touching people. God, he hoped not. Jim had always had a bad habit of sexualizing the people around him, but Spock had been the star of his fantasies lately. Probably just because of all the time they’d been spending together.

Jim cleared his throat. “Well, I guess you can go then. It’s not like Bones is going to let me out of here anytime soon. If you get me a padd before you leave, I’ll write up my report tonight and send it to you to match up with your own tomorrow.” He glanced down at his stomach. “I think I’d like to keep a few things a secret. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, and all that.”

“Yes, sir.” Spock nodded his head slightly. “I will check in with the departments before I retire for the evening.” He retrieved a padd from a nearby workstation and handed it to Jim.

“Thanks, Spock.” Jim waved him towards the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Captain.” Spock pivoted and left.

Captain. When anyone else said it, pride welled up inside Jim. When Spock said it, his whole chest ached.

Now alone, Jim opened his account on the padd and pulled up a standard mission report form. After filling in the required personnel details and the reason for the mission, he paused at the second question.

“Detail the events of the mission.”

Let’s see. He and Spock had been walking along, scanning flowers, when they were captured, drugged, and forced to fuck. Then apparently Spock had gotten both of them out of the jail and back to the ship, where Jim woke up pregnant.

Pregnant.

What an insane idea.

Even having seen the diagram and the baby’s genetic scan, Jim couldn’t imagine that there was an actual person growing on his liver. Surely this was just a misunderstanding or a bunch of faulty computer readings caused by the polonium. Or maybe Bones and Spock were playing a horrible joke on him.

But Spock’s tight shoulders and Bones’ deep frown told him that they had been telling the truth. There was nothing funny about this situation. He was about to do something no man had ever done.

He started to touch his stomach, then paused. His hand hovered indecisively in midair. Then he let it fall back to the padd.

He’d touch his stomach later. When the baby started to show. It’d feel more real then.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

  


Spock required one-point-three hours to assess the current status of the ship. It took him two-point-seven.

Though tempted to blame the delay on interruptions, he could not lie to himself. He lingered in Engineering far longer than necessary because he didn’t want to go back to his room. When he realized what he was doing, he forced himself to leave for his quarters.

As soon as he and Jim were released from the jail, Spock had picked up his captain and raced for the canyon. Upon arriving, he found their beam-in point, which he knew the _Enterprise_ would have begun monitoring as soon as they missed their scheduled check-in. Within minutes, they were beamed back to the ship and Jim was carted off to sickbay.

Nyota had been waiting for him in the transporter room, and she cornered him when he tried to follow Jim.

“What happened down there? Are you okay?”

He nearly broke down and told her right then what had happened. Lying to his sworn-one went against everything Spock knew. But the transporter room was not the place for such a discussion, and he forced himself to bite back the truth.

“I am acceptable, however the doctor needs to be made aware of the captain’s… injuries.” He held out his fingers. “I will discuss the events with you later.”

She frowned but did not argue, instead pressing her fingers to his and relaying her discontent through their touch. “Alright. I’ll meet you in your cabin after shift.”

He had nodded and ripped his fingers from hers as quickly as possible without upsetting her. In that one touch, he had realized something alarming.

Her mind battled his.

Compared to how readily Jim’s mind had welcomed him and drawn him in, hers was an army, standing guard and refusing him entrance. Spock hadn’t noticed before, as he rarely had cause to touch human minds. He had surmised that the fight was a natural defense in response to a mind touch. In the past, every human mind he touched reacted that way, except his mothers. But she had been bonded to a Vulcan for so many years, her mind could have altered itself.

Then he had touched Jim’s mind.

Spock came to a stop outside of his quarters. He entered the key on the interface by his door, and it slid wide open. The room was dark, but he could see a lump in his bed. Nyota had fallen asleep while waiting.

He fought alternating waves of relief and anxiety. If Nyota did not wake, he could put off their discussion until the morning. But until he spoke with her, he could not act as though their relationship was normal. He certainly couldn’t crawl into bed beside her as he normally did.

Nearly thirty-six hours had passed since the end of his last sleep cycle. Though he could stay awake for longer if necessary, his efficiency had already begun to drop. Logically, he should sleep before his next shift.

Squaring his shoulders, Spock stepped into his quarters. As the door slid shut, he requested the lights brighten to 25%.

The resulting dim glow was enough to wake Nyota. She blinked sleepily up at him from the bed, then smiled. “I wasn’t sure you’d be back tonight. How’s Kirk?”

“Pregnant.”

Nyota sat up and rubbed her eyes. “I feel like I’m awake, but obviously I’m not.”

Spock calmed his mind. He needed to center his emotions before he continued this conversation. Jim had requested this information not be shared, but it was important Nyota understood everything that had happened on the planet.

“During the mission, Jim and I were captured by the native people. They jailed us and gave us water and bread. We assumed the bread was drugged, so we drank the water, only to discover it was the opposite. Jim devolved quickly under the drug’s influence.”

Nyota slid to the edge of the bed and stood up. Crossing to him, she laid a hand on his arm. “What about you?”

“The drug was an aphrodisiac. As I seemed able to control my reactions, I assumed I would not have sex with the captain.” He steeled himself for her response. “And yet I did.”

She jerked away. “You and… Kirk?”

He nodded. “The aphrodisiac made him wild. He was rapidly approaching the point of priapism, and our captors had informed us that anal application of semen would halt the drug’s effects. As the captain faced permanent disability, it seemed logical to take action.”

“By fucking him?”

He nodded again.

The smack took him by surprise. Pain blossomed in his left cheek.

“How could you?” Nyota clenched her teeth. “How could you just give your virginity to that… that asshole? Don’t tell me it was the drug; aphrodisiacs make you horny, they don’t force you to fuck people.”

“Logically—”

“Don’t ‘logically’ me.” She huffed. “Did you orgasm?” She held up her hands. “No, don’t answer that. You escaped. Obviously you administered an ‘anal application of semen’.”

Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “The drug was not in my system.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You said you both drank the water.”

“We did. During the events that ensued, I believed myself to be under the influence of the drug. Prior to our release, our captors clarified that only Jim’s glass had the drug in it.”

She sucked in a breath. “You fucked him, and you liked it.” She shook her head. “You melded with him, and you won’t touch my mind.” She took a seat on the edge of his bed. “What is so goddamn special about Kirk that everyone wants a piece of him?”

Spock thought of the welcoming embrace of Jim’s mind, then pushed the memories away. “I apologize for my actions, Nyota.”

“No.” She stomped over to him. Jamming finger into his chest, she snarled, “Only my friends are allowed to call me that, and right now, you are not my friend.”

Each shove of her finger against his sternum made his chest clench. “You are my sworn-one.”

“Yeah? Prove it.” Her finger slid up his chest and neck, trailing his cheek until it reached his temple. “Meld us. Show me that this meant nothing to you.”

An improperly created bond could be dangerous, but they would be at New Vulcan in three point nine days. A faulty bond could be mended then. A destroyed relationship could never be repaired. Spock raised his hand to her meld points.

"My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."

Saying the ritual words, he slid into her head. Inside, he found bundles of knowledge and thoughts stuck here and there. Wires ran between the bundles, connecting each bit of information to another bit. Nothing was organized, nothing made sense. Everything seemed to have been thrown together in a mish-mash that only Nyota could understand.

Spock attempted to make his way forward to her core, the point at which she would be able to feel his mind and read his thoughts. He found his path barricaded by the wires. Unable to cut them without destroying her memories and thought processes, Spock had to slowly maneuver under, over, or around each mental connection.

He had barely reached the layer of her mind where her inner thoughts dwelled when he found himself wanting to retreat. The wires grew thicker the deeper he went, tripping him up and twining about him as he moved.

For an extremely organized woman, she had a terribly disorganized mind.

Still, he pressed onward, until he reached the center of her mind. Tired, he let his guard drop, opening the lines of communication between them.

"I am here."

Surprise trickled past him. "I can hardly feel you."

"The connection is not deep."

"Can you show me what happened?"

"I will try." Opening his mind, he brought up the images of being captured, of the effects the drug had on Jim. He tried to send them to her, but they boomeranged back, ramming into his mind.

She sent images of frowns. They were blurry, but he could see them. Gathering his thoughts, he tried to send his memories. Again they returned, slotting back into place in his well-ordered mind.

Her frowns became sparks of red-hot anger.

He attempted to gather his thoughts again, but quickly found her mind growing inhospitable. The wires slithered around his ankles, tangling him in her thoughts. "You need to calm down."

His thought-words ignited her rage. He flew out of her inner mind. The tangled bits of information drew closer together, forming a barricade around her mind. If he pressed hard enough, he could break through the barrier, but it would hurt her. Besides, there was no purpose. He now knew what he had feared was true.

Spock pulled out of the meld.

Nyota's eyes flew open. "Did we bond?"

"No."

She wavered, her finger still pressed to his temple. "That's... good."

He pulled his hand from her face. "We did not bond because we cannot bond. Our minds are not compatible."  



	5. Chapter 5

  


**Chapter Five**

  


Nyota drew away, her lips compressing into a tight line. “What do you mean we aren’t compatible?” she asked tightly.

“I mean what I said. Our minds are not compatible. Bonding would require a healer’s assistance, and the bond would be unstable and easily broken by mental manipulation on either of our parts.”

“Sticks and stones might break our bones, but words would break our bond.” The sing-song tone of her voice stood at odds with the angry lines of her face.

“Yes.”

His single word answer infuriated her. “If I were Kirk, you’d claim you didn’t understand my meaning. That Earth nursery rhymes make no sense to you.” Her shoulders drooped. “How is it that Kirk’s mind is more compatible than mine, when I understand you so much better than him?”

He had no answer, probably because he doubted whether she really understood him better than Jim. His doppelganger from the other universe had claimed that Jim’s friendship would define him, and in the year and a half he had known the man, the statement had come true. They had quickly become a command team to envy, and beyond that, close friends.

Spock sometimes wondered what friendship really was. His mother had often claimed his father was her best friend, and Spock had long assumed that marriage required friendship. Upon growing up and meeting more couples, he had quickly realized that the two relationships were entirely separate from each other. Marriage did not require friendship any more than friendship required marriage.

By the time he entered into his relationship with Nyota, he came to the conclusion that his marriage would likely not become a close friendship. He liked Nyota, was attracted to her, and had multiple passions in common with her. He had hypothesized it would be enough to create a solid romantic relationship with her.

He had collected much data during their relationship, and his final conclusion was that his hypothesis was flawed. Marriages _could_ exist without a close friendship, but _happy_ marriages could not.

Nyota’s accusatory glare was just more proof to add to his data set.

“I am sorry,” he said at last.

She sighed, and the anger fled her body in a rush of hot air. “I know.” Collapsing onto the edge of the bed, she hunched forward, protecting her solar plexus. “Where does this leave us?”

“We cannot bond.”

“Does that mean we can’t have a relationship? Is the bond that big of a deal to you?”

He took a seat beside her, but did not touch her. “Is marriage important to you?”

“Of course.” She lifted her face, her gaze focused on something Spock couldn’t see. “When I was little, I dreamed of wearing a long white dress and carrying a huge bouquet of lilies.”

“As a child, I often contemplated the most logical time and place in which to bond with my sworn-one.”

She smiled sadly. “So it’s pretty important.”

He didn’t reply.

Nyota wrapped her arms around her waist. “Then this is it.”

“Indeed.”

She grabbed her overnight bag from the floor. From it, she took a long coat, which she pulled on over her pajamas. She paused, her back turned to him. “I’d like to ask if we could be friends, but I honestly don’t think I could handle that. So I’ll just say goodnight, Commander Spock.”

“Goodnight, Lieutenant Uhura. I will reassign us to alternate shifts tomorrow,” he offered, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

She nodded vaguely. “That’s probably for the best.” She walked to the door, taking one small step at a time. As soon as it slid open, her pace quickened, and she raced away.

Spock watched the door slide shut. Alone in the dark room, he felt isolated.

He could not bond with his sworn-one. He had raped his friend. And in less than six months, he would become a father.

He changed his clothing and climbed into his bed, where Nyota’s fragrance still lingered. His mind racing, he lay on his back, contemplating how his life could have been altered so much, so quickly.


	6. Chapter 6

  


**Chapter Six**

Jim sat up in his biobed as Spock entered the room. “Hey, what’s up? Aren’t you still on duty?”

Spock inclined his head in affirmation. He held out a padd. “I have prepared ship updates and new duty rosters for you to approve.”

So Jim was still on active duty then. Good. Though he was surprised Bones hadn’t marked him down for six months of bed rest. “Lemme see.” He took the padd and quickly flipped through the duty roster. Everything looked about the same, though Jim noticed Spock had taken on more bridge hours in favor of assigning Jim to the euphemistically labeled “Administration” position.

Jim sighed. “Do you really think it’s going to take me thirty hours a week to do my paperwork?”

Spock blinked at him. “You currently have a five-week backlog of bookkeeping and correspondence to attend to. I assume you will also wish to get ahead on your paperwork prior to the infant’s birth, which will require at least three more weeks of dedicated work. In addition, you can complete your administration duties while resting in your room. As you requested that no one know of your condition, this will also allow you to hide the physical effects of pregnancy.”

He certainly couldn’t fault Spock’s logic. “I’ll let you win this time.” The thought of all that time confined to his room made him squirm. Stillness did not come naturally to him. He knew he would need the rest though… even female Starfleet members were typically taken off active duty as soon as they announced their pregnancy, however regulations stated that they could remain on duty until the third trimester. The way Bones and M’Benga were talking, he’d be running on fumes by the fourth month.

His own changed schedule made him examine the bridge shifts more closely. He wanted to be sure everything would run smoothly in his absence—not that he doubted Spock’s command ability. He understood personal relationships better than Spock though, and if he wasn’t going to be on the bridge, he wanted people there who would function as efficiently as possible.

Everything seemed to be in order, until he looked at the Communication assignments. His stomach dropped like a rock. “Uhura’s on Delta shift.”

Spock nodded serenely, but his posture was too tight. “I felt she would work well with Lieutenant Bartlett at the helm.”

“Why isn’t she working with you?”

He wouldn’t meet Jim’s eyes. “We ended our relationship last night. I felt it prudent to provide her with space to process the change in status.”

Jim massaged the bridge of his nose. “Shit, Spock, I’m sorry.” He knew this would happen. Uhura didn’t share well. “Did you explain that it was an accident? That you won’t even have to take care of the kid?” He leaned over, grabbing the padd he had been working on earlier from the bedside tray. “Look, I already drew up the paperwork. All you have to do is sign over your rights, and you won’t have to do anything for the baby.” He opened the proper file and handed over the padd.

Spock read through the paperwork silently.

Jim waited as patiently as possible. His palms were sweaty, and he rubbed them on his blanket. The paperwork was pretty standard. The baby would be able to know who his other parent was, but the other parent wouldn’t be expected to provide any financial support. The other parent also wouldn’t have any say in the kid’s life.

To be honest, raising a kid on his own terrified him. He hadn’t exactly had terrific role models. Plus, the kid would be part Vulcan. Who knew how those genes would manifest? Jim would love to have Spock’s input, but not at the cost of his happiness.

At last, Spock looked up from the paperwork. “This is what you want.”

Hiding his insecurities behind a smile, Jim nodded. “I’ll take care of the kid on my own. You’ll be free to do whatever you want with your life.”

“Very well.” Spock picked up a stylus from Jim’s tray. He filled out the required fields, then set the padd on the bed. “I need your signature on the duty rosters.”

He signed wordlessly, then handed Spock’s padd back. Picking up his own padd, he glanced at the neatly written signature. It was the same cold, unfeeling signature that graced every piece of paperwork that had crossed Jim’s desk over the past eighteen months.

He dropped the padd. Whatever. He’d sign it and send it in later. At least now Spock could go tell Uhura that the kid wasn’t his. “Let me know how things go with Uhura, okay?”

Spock’s brow furrowed. “I do not understand.”

“You can get back together now that the kid’s not an issue.” Spock’s expression didn’t change. “Wasn’t that why you broke up?”

“No.” Spock’s gaze lowered to the floor. “We ended our relationship because we are incompatible.”

Crap. Why did he have to be the one to help Spock get back together with his girlfriend? He must have picked up a shitload of bad karma somewhere.

“I haven’t seen two people with more in common than you guys. You just need to talk to her, work it out.”

Spock looked up. The sadness in his eyes nearly blew Jim away. “We are incompatible. I attempted a meld. It failed. We cannot bond.”

As awful as Jim felt for Spock, his words lit a tiny spark of hope. Their meld had been so very easy. Maybe they really were destined to be more than friends…

No. This was not the time to be thinking such things.

“Are you sure? Can’t the healers on Vulcan help with that?”

Spock shook his head minutely. “We are incompatible. There is no remedy.”

“Sorry.” It was a feeble response, but it was all Jim had.

“I must evaluate an experiment in Lab One.” Spock clasped his hands behind his back, a movement that told Jim he wanted to escape.

Jim waved him away. “Go on.”

Spock raced off as if hellhounds nipped at his heels… which meant he walked ever so slightly faster than normal. Jim watched him leave, waiting until the sickbay door slid shut behind him to look away. His gaze landed on his padd.

Spock had signed the forms so perfunctorily. Had he realized what they really entailed?

Jim picked up the padd. The paperwork didn’t need to be filed immediately. As long as it was sent in before the kid’s first birthday, Spock wouldn’t have any liability. And since Uhura’s opinion wasn’t a consideration, there was no immediate need to send in the forms.

Maybe he should wait a while. They had both experienced so much emotional upheaval in the last few days. If Spock changed his mind later, getting the filing undone would be nearly impossible.

Jim saved the file and closed it. He had six months to think it over. Babies were pretty incredible things. Who knew how Spock would feel when he finally saw the kid?  



	7. Chapter 7

  


**Chapter Seven**

  


Jim stifled his third yawn in less than fifteen minutes. He returned to his paperwork, only to get distracted by a yeoman’s question, and then spent nearly a minute staring into empty space. Finally his attention reverted to his padd. Mere moments later he twisted in the captain’s chair, attempting to stretch his back.

Spock observed all of this from his position at the science station. Nearly four weeks had passed since Jim’s impregnation. At this moment in time, the embryo was approximately 0.2 centimeters in length. Due to differences in biological development and tracking of conception dates, a full-term pregnancy for Jim would last 41 weeks, versus the 44 weeks of a Vulcan or 40 weeks of a Terran pregnancy. Doctor McCoy had determined that the embryo would likely need to be removed at 27 weeks gestation, though the goal would be 30 weeks.

The amount of discomfort that Jim was already experiencing did not bode well for the remaining 26 weeks.

Spock glanced at his station’s readouts again. They had changed course slightly, and their arrival time had been altered. The captain should be alerted to the change.

He stood and walked to Jim’s chair. The captain was talking to his yeoman again, so Spock waited until they had completed their conversation to speak. “Our new heading has changed our estimated time of arrival from eleven-hundred forty-nine hours to elven hundred thirty-three hours, Captain.”

Jim nodded absentmindedly. “Very good, Spock.” He twisted in his seat, grimacing as something in his back cracked.

“Is something wrong, Captain?” Spock asked, pitching his voice so the others on the bridge could not hear him.

Jim shook his head. “Just have a kink in my back.” He didn’t bother to lower his voice, and the yeoman who had begun to walk away froze. She pivoted, then watched along with Spock as Jim shifted in his seat yet again.

The yeoman gave Spock an odd look. When he ignored it, she frowned at him and stepped closer to the captain’s chair. Tucking her padd under her arm, she used one hand to massage Jim’s back.

Jim groaned happily. “That’s it. Perfect. No, a little higher.” He sighed. “Yes, there. Now harder Spo—” Jim’s voice trailed off as he looked back over his shoulder and caught sight of the woman standing there.

Odd. It sounded as though Jim had been about to say Spock’s name. Had he thought Spock was massaging him? He knew Vulcans did not touch others so casually.

Jim straightened in his seat. “Thank you, Yeoman. That’s enough.”

The yeoman nodded, but frowned. “You should get some more sleep, Captain. You look exhausted.”

Jim held up a hand. “No nagging. I get enough of that from Doctor McCoy.”

She shrugged and walked off to tend to her duties. Pitching his voice low again, Spock said, “In a rare turn of events, Doctor McCoy is correct.”

“And I will relax.” Jim propped his elbow on the arm of his chair and rested his chin in his hand. “During the five hours of Administration I have on my schedule this afternoon.” He finished with a small yawn.

Convincing Jim to do something he did not wish to do was impossible at the best of times. Manipulation, though unsavory, would serve Spock better than verbal discourse in this situation.

“Perhaps you should consume glucose in order to raise your energy levels.”

As expected, Jim chuckled. “Yeah, a sugar rush might help.” He frowned at the time display on his datascreen. “There’s only fifteen minutes left in this shift. What do you say we play hooky and see if we can’t find some donuts in the kitchen?”

“I cannot, Captain.” Though there were only fifteen minutes remaining in alpha shift, Spock had also assigned himself to beta shift. Since their stop on New Vulcan became unnecessary, they had changed course and were entering a treacherous area of space five days ahead of schedule. Lieutenant Scott swore that the ship would be fine in the ion storms that raged along this leg of their journey, but Spock wanted to remain on the bridge while they traversed the area.

Jim’s face fell. “The ion storms. Right.” He stood, his shoulders slumping minutely. “I guess I’ll just go get some lunch alone then. Come check in with me tonight, okay?”

“Yes, sir. I will report to your rooms as soon as we clear the storms.”

Rather than reassuring Jim, Spock’s words seemed to make him more depressed. “It’s no big deal. Just swing by whenever.” He headed for the turbolift, his gait slower than normal. “You’ve got the bridge, Mr. Spock.”

After Jim stepped inside the turbolift, Spock settled into the captain’s chair. Jim had seemed upset as he left. Perhaps the pregnancy was weighing on him more than he claimed.

Spock would talk to McCoy before he reported to Jim’s room later. The doctor might have some advice for assisting Jim.  



	8. Chapter 8

  


**Chapter Eight**

  


“How can you ‘assist the captain’?” McCoy snorted, settling back in his seat. “Well, if this were a normal pregnancy, I’d tell you to massage his feet and never mention his weight gain.”

“As this is not a normal pregnancy, what do you suggest?”

McCoy shrugged. “Honestly? Rub his feet, and don’t mention his weight gain.”

Spock refrained from frowning. “I would appreciate more relevant suggestions, Doctor.”

“What do you want me to say?” McCoy threw his hands up in the air. “Pregnancy is hard enough on healthy women who have partners supporting them. Jim’s going to struggle with this pregnancy, both mentally and physically. What he needs is for you to be there for him—which means rubbing his feet and telling him he’s not fat.”

“You are trivializing the situation.”

McCoy gestured at the office around them. “I am a doctor.”

If Spock were human, he would probably have rolled his eyes at the statement. “That is how Starfleet classifies you.”

He shook his head. “You don’t get it. I’m _Jim’s doctor_. When I talk to him, I’m worried about what he’s eating, whether he has morning sickness, and if he’s going to die because of this baby. When he talks to me, he’s worried about me thinking that his complaints about his aching back mean something is seriously wrong. M’Benga faces the same issue. So long as he is pregnant, we are his doctors, not his friends.” McCoy sighed. “Right now, you are the only other person who knows about this pregnancy. He needs you to be his friend. Not his science officer. Not his first officer. Just his friend.”

Spock understood what McCoy was saying, but he was the first officer. The ship’s business was a part of his daily life, and not something he could ignore. “I cannot set my duties aside for the duration of the pregnancy.”

“And I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking you to make time for Jim as a friend.” McCoy smirked. “And to rub his feet.”

Unable to determine whether his final statement was sarcasm, Spock simply nodded. “Very well. I will attempt to do so.”

McCoy wagged a finger at him. “Don’t try. Do it.” He pointed at the door. “Now go check on Jim. He spent most of the afternoon in here pestering my nurses, so I’m guessing he’s lonely.

With a brief nod, Spock left. He headed for Jim’s rooms. It had been nearly eight hours since he left the bridge. Spock hoped he had taken at least some of that time to rest.

He stopped at Jim’s door and pressed the buzzer.

“Come in,” Jim called through the intercom.

Spock opened the door. Inside, Jim was attacking a punching ball on his desk with all of his might. His bright red cheeks and heavy breathing made Spock doubt this was the beginning of his workout. “Jim!”

Jim paused and grinned. “Hey! Are we out of the ion storms already?”

“You should be resting.” Spock stepped forward and stopped the punching bag, which was still swaying on its stand from Jim’s last blow.

“Well, hello to you too.” Jim pulled off his light boxing gloves and threw them on his desk. “How has my day been? Well, I spent most of it bored out of my mind, so I decided to work off some steam by punching something. Oh, but apparently I’m not allowed to do anything fun anymore.”

“The embryo is monopolizing your body’s nutrients.” Spock watched as Jim grabbed a towel and began to wipe the sweat off his face and arms. Jim’s tight sleeveless shirt showed off his well-defined musculature. He was in good health, but that could change at any moment. “Sweating leads to a loss of important electrolytes. You could injure yourself or the embryo by exercising with such intensity.”

Jim draped the towel around his neck. “I know.” He pulled out a chair and collapsed into it, loose-limbed and relaxed. “But women have been sweating while pregnant for millennia. If they can handle it, so can I.”

“You lack the physiological adaptations that allow women to carry children safely.”

“Yeah, because I’m a _man_!” Jim burst out of his chair, his hands balled into fists. “Though I shouldn’t have to tell you that. You’ve seen my goddamn penis!”

Spock had certainly seen his penis, and every other part of him as well. Memories of Jim’s warm, pliant flesh rose to the surface of Spock’s mind. He pushed the thoughts away, though it wasn’t easy with Jim standing flushed and sweaty before him. “I know that you are male. I would not concern myself with your health if you were female.”

Jim grinned, his anger gone. “You’re worried about my health?”

“Of course. If you were incapacitated, I would have to assume command of the ship, which I have no interest in doing.”

“Oh.” Jim sighed. “I guess all first officers worry about their captain’s health.” He collapsed into his chair, but his shoulders remained stiff.

His words reminded Spock of Dr. McCoy’s suggestion. The sight of Jim sweaty and flushed mid-workout had distracted him.

“I am also concerned for you… as a friend.” Spock stumbled over the words. Friendship, as a concept, was appreciated in Vulcan culture, but in reality few Vulcans cultivated close relationships with anyone outside of their family. Spock had never called anyone a friend before, not aloud. Perhaps he felt closer to Jim than Jim did to him. McCoy could be incorrect; Jim might not want more than a professional relationship with Spock.

Jim’s face lit up. “So, we’re friends?”

“Humans define friendship as holding regard for someone whom you get along with.” Spock took a deeper breath than was necessary. “As I hold more regard for you than for anyone else, I would in fact classify you as my ‘best friend.’”

Jim smiled so brightly that Spock found himself unable to breath. He forced himself to take another deep breath.

“Me too.” Jim relaxed in his chair, the lingering stiffness in his shoulders disappearing. “Come on, sit down. Tell me about your day. How were the ion storms?”

Spock perched in in a nearby chair, his mind racing. He had done as McCoy suggested, only to have Jim turn the conversation straight to business matters. Spock had admitted something personal, and Jim had given a trite reply and moved on.

In his dealings with humans, Spock found that they avoided conflict. Perhaps Jim had simply said “me too” in order to avoid upsetting Spock by revealing that he didn’t consider them friends. Not that he would have. Spock was Vulcan. He didn’t experience emotions.

Dr. McCoy was wrong. Jim had enough friends. He needed Spock to be the first officer, to keep the ship running when he couldn’t. And that was precisely was Spock would do.

“We entered the storm field at twelve-hundred and thirty-two hours. Mr. Chekov plotted a course that would avoid the worst storms while adding only thirty point three minutes to our journey. Following his course, Mr. Sulu guided us through the storms without incident. We cleared the field at nineteen-hundred and nine hours. One external sensor required recalibration at that point, which was completed in five point two minutes. No other damage was reported.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “I didn’t ask for a technical report. Tell me how you guys did. Was anyone nervous or upset?”

Something in Spock’s abdomen untwisted as he evaluated Jim’s response. What he had understood to be an inquiry about business matters was in fact about personal matters. “Ensign Singh asked to be excused from the bridge at thirteen-hundred hours. She claimed to be experiencing motion sickness.”

“There was no ‘claiming’ to it!” He chuckled. “I was in sickbay when she came in. She managed to throw up all over Bones before he could get an anti-emetic in her.” He grimaced. “I really hope I don’t end up with morning sickness.”

“Are you aware that ‘morning sickness’ can in fact occur at any time of the day?” Spock had discovered that fact when researching the particulars of human pregnancy. The fact that the nausea maintained the name despite the fact that it was not limited to a specific time of day appeared to be another human quirk. On Vulcan, nausea caused by pregnancy was simply termed ‘pregnancy nausea,’ which made far more sense.

“You’ve been studying up on pregnancy?” Jim’s mouth quirked into a half-smile.

Spock nodded. “Indeed. The biological processes of Humans and Vulcans are quite similar, but I wanted to determine how your pregnancy might differ from those I have observed in the past. I was surprised to learn that you will not develop any defense mechanisms.” He had vague memories of a distant cousin’s pregnancy on Vulcan. She had grown long, claw-like fingernails, a defense mechanism that most women in their peaceful society chose to eliminate. His cousin had kept hers, and she had used them indiscriminately.

He still had a scar on his left hand where she smacked it when he tried to take the last frilte-cookie.

Jim sighed. “Nope. We get fat and slow and clumsy.”

“In the first six months of your pregnancy, you should only gain twenty pounds. Excessive weight gain is unhealthy.”

With a shrug, Jim pulled the towel from his neck. “Tell that to my body. I’m up five pounds already, and I’m always starving. I’ll be the size of a car by the time I give birth.”

“You would have to weigh a thousand pounds in order to resemble even a small vehicle,” Spock said absentmindedly. Jim didn’t appear to have gained any weight. Though, his slumped position could be hiding any rounding of his stomach.

Laughing, Jim threw his towel into a corner. “If that’s your way of telling me I’ll still look handsome when I’m the size of a blimp, then thanks.” He stretched his arms above his head, pulling his shirt tight.

His stomach was still flat, Spock noticed. Then he realized he was staring a little too intently at Jim’s body, and he looked away.

Jim lowered his arms and yawned. “Crap. I’m exhausted, but I can’t seem to get a good night’s sleep. I keep waking up in the middle of the night because I need to piss or my back hurts or I’ve got heartburn.” He yawned again, then shook his head. “But who cares about me? How are you doing?”

Spock blinked. Was his question merely a social nicety, or was Jim legitimately interested in his life? “I am operating at eighty-nine percent efficiency, which is eight percent below average.”

“You’re taking your break-up with Uhura hard then?” Jim leaned forward, his blue eyes boring into Spock.

“I have not thought about our parting in six point nine days.” He had been too busy thinking about more important things, such as Jim’s health and the approaching ion storms. Uhura functioned well on Delta shift, and their paths rarely crossed.

Jim’s eyes widened. “Really? I thought you two had been close… like, really close. Soul-mates close. Isn’t that what you meant by ‘sworn one’?”

“No. A sworn-one is merely a _ko-kugalsu_ … fiancée in your language.”

“What do you call a soul-mate?”

“ _T’hy’la_.”

The word came out almost reverently, and Spock had to quickly stifle the rush of emotion that followed it.

Jim tilted his head to one side. “T’hy’la?”

He did not suppress the feelings fast enough. At Jim’s cautious repetition of the word, Spock’s heart leapt in his chest, his pulse increasing by a full ten percent.

Though t’hy’la meant many things to Vulcans—friend, brother, lover—to Spock it meant one thing.

Love.

In a deep corner of his mind, one he rarely dared venture into, Spock dreamed of one day finding his t’hy’la. The person with whom he would share everything. As a child, he assumed that everyone had a t’hy’la. He had believed he would grow up and find the person who would love him like his mother loved his father… and like his father had loved his mother, in his own Vulcan way.

Then he grew up and he realized that ‘t’hy’la’ was merely a concept. Relationships didn’t require two people to be soul-mates.

Spock’s parents had been both best friends and _t’hy’lara_. Their marriage, though not perfect, had been stronger than most. And that deep corner of Spock’s mind still dreamed of finding the person who would be his best friend and his t’hy’la.

Jim was Spock’s best friend. They were as close as brothers. He was carrying his child. Friend, brother, lover—they were the definition of t’hy’lara.

Impossible. Spock clenched his teeth and focused on Jim.

Jim, the man he raped.

They could never be t’hy’lara. Not after what Spock did.

“Would you like me to massage your feet?” Spock asked abruptly.

Jim blinked for a few seconds. “Well. Talk about a subject change.”

“Dr. McCoy informed me that such an act would be appreciated.”

“Oh, it would be!” Jim toed off his shoes. “As long as you don’t mind?”

Spock shook his head. Though Vulcans avoided touch, they weren’t averse to it. He moved his chair forward and took hold of Jim’s left foot. Starting below the big toe, he began to knead the flesh in small circles.

Jim’s eyes fluttered shut and his breathing began to slow. He sank down in his chair, radiating relaxation. As he moved, his shirt pulled tight across his abdomen. The area was softer than before. There was no bump yet, but there would be soon.

Administering a foot massage was the least Spock could do after what he did.  



	9. Chapter 9

  


**Chapter Nine**

  


In the middle of a routine survey of the engineering bay, Spock was startled when a nearby comm squawked, “Kirk to Spock!”

The captain had taken the day off, as Dr. McCoy wanted to give him a full work-up. Why was he comming Spock in the middle of his shift? Was something wrong with the embryo?

He pressed the response button. “Spock here.”

“Hey, can you meet me in my rooms?”

“Certainly.” What could Jim want him for? His appointment wasn’t scheduled for another twenty-three minutes. “I’ll be there in five point three minutes.”

Jim chuckled, but it sounded forced. “No rush. Take your time.”

Disregarding his assurances, Spock quickly finalized the analysis he was running and informed the engineering overseer that he would return when possible. Then he made his way to Jim’s quarters, arriving in exactly five point three minutes.

Jim opened the door as soon as he buzzed. “Come in.” He stepped out of the doorway to let Spock pass, then shut the door.

“What is wrong?”

Jim ran a hand through his hair, then let out a puff of breath. “You’re gonna think I’m an idiot…” He shook his head. “ _I_ think I’m an idiot.”

“Jim?”

“Will you come with me to see Bones?” He sighed. “That sounded stupid. Why would you come with me? Bones is my best friend, after all. It’s not like I need moral support to go see my friend.”

“Jim.”

He leaned against the door. “Bones says we’ll be able to see the baby’s heartbeat today. Maybe even hear it.”

Jim seemed distressed. Why would such an occasion upset him? Perhaps it was because knowing the embryo had a heartbeat made the pregnancy tangible. “You are only in the eighth week of pregnancy, according to Human measurements. Termination is still an option.” Spock would regret the loss of the part-Vulcan child, but the decision was not his to make. It was not his life at risk.

“No!” Jim shook his head violently. “No, I want this baby. That’s why…” He looked away.

Spock waited for Jim to continue, but he seemed unable to find the words to explain his thoughts. With a thought to his mother’s soothing techniques, he reached out and placed his hand on Jim’s shoulder.

Jim looked up at him, his bright blue eyes dark with worry. “What if there isn’t a heartbeat?” he whispered.

This was a fear Spock could alleviate. “The embryo’s heartbeat typically appears at twenty-two days post-conception. Dr. McCoy has presumably been monitoring it for weeks, but the embryo has only now gotten large enough for the heartbeat to be depicted on the scans.”

“Do you really think so?”

Spock nodded. “I will accompany you if you desire.”

Jim nodded quickly. “Yes. Definitely. I mean, Bones will be there, but you’re my best friend too. I want you both there.”

Best friend. Spock felt like he had waited for years to hear those words, and yet it had only been two weeks since he said them himself.

Smiling, Jim added, “And you’re the baby’s dad. You should be there.”

Spock removed his hand from Jim’s shoulder. “I am only a genetic donor.” The papers he had signed made that very clear.

Jim’s smile dimmed. “Right.” He turned away and opened the door. “We’re going to be late.”

Why did that upset Jim? He had requested Spock sign the papers. Spock would gladly have claimed the child and offered support as he grew.

Human women were prone to mood swings during pregnancy. Perhaps Jim’s wild fluctuations in temperament could be attributed to hormone changes.

In sickbay, Dr. McCoy ushered them into a private area usually reserved for intensive care patients. There were none at the moment, but Jim eyed the biobed with distrust. Spock imagined his wariness was due to McCoy’s prediction that he would be on bed rest by twenty weeks.

“Lay down.” McCoy pulled a portable scanner beside the bed as Jim climbed into it. “Let’s see what this little man looks like.”  
`  
Though current medical advances made it possible to see the embryo from the moment of fertilization, McCoy had decided to avoid using the stronger scanners until the pregnancy was firmly entrenched. Neither he nor M’Benga knew if the small amounts of radiation used in the scans would adversely affect the embryo due to his Vulcan heritage and unique conception. So far, the only images they had seen were of the embryonic sac.

McCoy assessed Jim first. “Well, your blood pressure is up a little. We’re going to have to keep an eye on that. You need to try to avoid high-cholesterol foods. Eat lots of protein, but try to cut your meat consumption back to one meal a day.”

Jim nodded. “Can do. I’ve been a bit queasy lately, so I haven’t been eating much meat anyway.”

McCoy raised his eyebrows but continued. “You’ve gained six point three pounds, which is right on target.” He frowned. “You’re low on potassium. Are you drinking the electrolyte drinks I formulated?”

“Nope… they taste like shit and make me vomit.”

“Well, at least he’s honest,” McCoy muttered. “I’ll try to make them taste better, but if you can’t keep them down, we’ll have to start administering them intravenously.”

“I’ll keep them down.”

“Good.” McCoy fiddled with a handheld scanner, then ran it over Jim’s hands and feet. “How are your feet feeling?”

Jim groaned. “Horrible. I’ve been considering making shoes optional, since mine hurt so bad.”

McCoy unfastened Jim’s regulation boots and pulled them off. He tugged off his socks next. Spock could smell his feet from his position near the head of the biobed, but he was more concerned about the dark red compression lines on them.

“I can’t believe you’ve been wearing these! You need to request some larger shoes from the quartermaster as soon as you leave here.” McCoy clicked his tongue. “You’ve got a lot of edema. Your feet shouldn’t be this swollen yet.”

Potential causes for the edema flickered through Spock’s mind. Blood clot, preeclampsia, kidney problems… “Is there reason for concern?”

Jim smiled up at him. “That’s just what I was going to ask.”

McCoy shook his head. “No. I’m guessing that it’s probably because the baby is growing higher up in your abdomen than normal, it’s compressing some of the blood vessels. As long as we keep an eye on it, you should be fine.”

Jim prodded his stomach. “Where is the little booger?”

McCoy tapped his finger three inches above Jim’s belly button. “Right about there. You’ll probably start showing in another week or two.” He poked Jim lightly. “You’re already a bit pudgy.”

“Showing?” Jim swatted McCoy’s hand away. “None of the women I know showed till they were three or four months along!”

“Yes, because they were women who had uteruses keeping the baby down in their pelvis. You are going to start developing a strange lump on your abdomen that will hopefully grow down and not out.”

Jim made a face. “I’m going to be ugly.”

“I warned you. Men don’t get pregnant for good reasons.” McCoy grabbed the scanner and wheeled it closer until it extended over Jim’s stomach. “Now let’s start the scan.”

A few seconds after McCoy situated the scanner, an image appeared on the biobed’s monitor. He muttered to himself as he calibrated the machine. The image slowly zoomed in and focused on a blob. McCoy pressed one more button and the image cleared up.

The embryo appeared on the screen, rendered in three dimensions.

Jim wrinkled his nose. “It looks like a bean with arms and legs.”

McCoy swatted his knee. “He’s adorable.”

Spock disagreed with McCoy, but he did find the embryo quite fascinating. His little arms and legs were waving slowly. If it weren’t for the fact that Spock knew he hadn’t developed eyelids yet, he’d say the embryo was looking at him.

“He’s a little small,” McCoy said. “But that’s to be expected with the Vulcan genes.” He poked around on his machine. “I don’t detect any physical abnormalities.”

“And the heartbeat?” Jim locked gazes with Spock.

“Nice and strong at one hundred and twenty-two beats per minute.” McCoy fiddled with a few buttons, and the fetus’s skin on the screen turned translucent. They all watched the heart flutter for a while.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” McCoy sighed. “It really is a baby hobgoblin.”

Jim grinned. “He’s got your heart, Spock.”

Spock stared at the beating heart situated under the embryo’s right lung, and his own heart throbbed.

That was his child. His flesh and blood. And Spock had signed him and his Vulcan heart away.  



	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

  


Jim woke up with a grunt. Shit. His back was killing him, and he was only three months pregnant. What was he going to do for the next four or five it would take before the kid was ready to join the world?

He levered himself out of bed and wandered over to his desk. He logged into the archiving program, intending to catch up on some paperwork. It was a better use of his time than tossing and turning in bed, plus if he did it now he wouldn’t feel as guilty about neglecting his work in favor of a nap that afternoon.

He opened his pending documents folder, only to discover that it was empty.

Empty? No way. Even with all the extra time he’d been spending doing “administrative” work, he’d still had tons of paperwork left. Suspicious, he opened his recently submitted files folder and clicked on a document that he knew he hadn’t completed.

Just as he’d thought. Spock had signed off on it. He checked another document, and then another. Every document he opened had Spock’s signature on it.

He gritted his teeth and glanced at the clock. It was only four in the morning, but Jim didn’t care. He pulled on his uniform and boots and stomped out into the hallway. Spock’s rooms were conveniently located next door, and he banged on the door. Loudly.

Moments later, Spock answered, his clothes and hair immaculate.

“Do you ever fucking sleep?”

Spock blinked at him. “I slept for five hours last night.”

“I don’t believe you.” Jim jammed a finger into Spock’s chest. “Because there’s no way you could have reviewed all of my files and still had time to sleep.”

Spock glanced up and down the hallway. “Perhaps you should come in.”

“Why? There’s no one out here!” Jim threw his hands up in the air. “It’s four in the fucking morning! Normal people are still sleeping.”

Spock stepped aside and waited silently until Jim finally entered. He shut the door, and motioned for Jim to sit down at his small table. “Would you like a drink?”

“No!” Jim flopped into a chair, then regretted it when a stab of pain shot through his back. “Just tell me why you’ve been doing my work.”

Spock sat in the other chair. “You are twelve weeks pregnant.”

“No, duh.”

“According to my research, you are likely experiencing fatigue and mood swings.” Spock’s gaze fell to Jim’s stomach. “And you are beginning to show.”

Jim looked at his stomach, then crossed his arms over it. There was barely any difference. He hadn’t even had to get new pants yet. “And what does that have to do with anything?”

“I assumed you would want to avoid our shipmates, so I completed any tasks that would require you to leave your room.”

Jim sucked in a breath. “Are you that worried people will find out he’s yours?”

Spock shook his head vehemently. “No. He is Vuhlkansu and he is treasured. However, you have requested that the pregnancy remain a secret. That will become more difficult as you grow larger.”

“I’ve got a while to go before people start deciding I’m pregnant,” Jim said. He uncrossed his arms. “There will be rumors soon, sure, but people will decide I’ve developed a beer gut or that I have a tumor.” Humans didn’t like to think outside of their boxes. No one would even imagine that he was pregnant. “Unless you told someone?”

“I informed Uhura when I explained what occurred on the planet, but she has not told anyone.”

Huh. Jim knew she could keep a secret, but he thought she’d have told someone by now, if only to get back at Spock. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. She is discreet.” He cleared his throat. “I believe she also wishes to keep it a secret because it betrays my infidelity.”

Oh. Yeah. “What is she telling people then?”

“The truth. We ended our relationship due to mental incompatibility.” Spock laced his fingers together and placed his hands on the table. “It is not an uncommon reason for Vulcans to terminate their relationships.”

“Still, she’s handling this very maturely.” The Uhura he knew had a temper, though she usually hid it well.

Spock looked down at his hands. “She is a mature and logical woman. That is what attracted me to her.” He looked up at Jim, a question in his eyes. “I do not understand why we weren’t compatible. We have many attributes in common, and yet her mind is completely unlike mine.”

Jim leaned back in the chair. They were getting off-topic, but Spock seemed to need an answer. “She’s too much like you,” he said at last. “You expect her to process things in the same way you do, and when she doesn’t, it frustrates you, right?” Spock nodded. “Whereas, when you’re dealing with me or Bones, you know we’re going to think about things differently. You expect it, so when it occurs, your expectations are validated.”

Spock nodded again. “That does—“

“And that’s why you should know better than to try to distract me.” Jim scowled. Spock had his answer, now he wanted his. “I’m tired and my back hurts, so just tell me why the hell you’ve been doing my work.”

“You appeared tired.”

“That’s it?” Jim snorted. “We’ve had horrible, near-death experiences that landed me in sickbay for days, and you’ve never done my work after those.”

Spock’s gaze fell to the tabletop. “Those experiences were not my fault.”

“And neither is this!” Jim pointed to his belly. “The aliens were the ones who did this.”

Spock’s lips thinned. “I should not have copulated with you. Enterprise would have found us and rescued us, and you would not be pregnant now.”

“Or I could be dead.”

Spock looked at him blankly, and Jim wanted to shake him.

“They said the drug would kill me, and I honestly thought it would. I felt like I was dying, my heart was racing so fast. Bones said the stress could have caused cardiac arrest.”

“I should not have…” Spock trailed off. He wouldn’t meet Jim’s eyes.

“Should not have what? You didn’t know if or when the Enterprise would save us. You didn’t know how long the drug would take to kill us. You saved us both.” Jim tried to smile, but he thought it probably looked pretty weak. “So don’t worry about me. I can handle this, even if I didn’t handle that mission well.”

He really could. Sure, he was tired, and every part of his body ached. But he wasn’t ready to give up. He didn’t want Spock to feel like he had to save him all the time. Jim could take care of himself.

“I apologize. I have no doubt that you can complete your work admirably.” Spock sounded sincere, but he still wouldn’t look Jim in the eye. “I merely hoped to assist you.”

A wave of fatigue washed over Jim. “I understand, but I can handle it. Please, let me do my job for as long as I can.” Focusing on the Enterprise was the only thing keeping him from going crazy.

Spock inclined his head. “Yes, sir.”

Jim sighed. Sometimes he wondered what was going on in that big Vulcan brain. Jim doubted he’d stop trying to help. He’d just be less obvious about it from now on.

“Spock?” Jim waited till he raised his eyes. “Thank you. It was really nice of you to take care of that for me.”

“It was the least I could do.”

Standing, Jim stretched his back. “Alright then. Since someone already did my paperwork, I guess I’ll try to go back to bed for a while.” He headed for the door. “Night.”

Spock stood. “Jim, I—“

“Hmm?” Jim turned.

Spock opened his mouth, then shut it. After a pause, he said, “Sleep well.”

“You too.” Jim left. Once in his room, he made a beeline for his bed. The adrenaline from his anger was wearing off fast. Maybe he’d be able to get a decent amount of sleep for once.

Once in bed, he found himself unable to relax. His back ached, he felt nauseous, and he could feel a headache developing in the middle of his forehead.

And in spite of all that, he was horny.

Sex wasn’t something he had spent much time thinking about over the last few months. Aside from a few feverish dreams, he had refused to contemplate what had happened between him and Spock. They were great friends, and Jim didn’t want to lose him over this. Especially since he was still hoping Spock would take an interest in the baby.

So he had jerked off to his fantasies, which usually involved a man giving him a blow-job. In the past, he’d been pretty varied in his fantasies, but the only thing he saw in his mind now was a thin pair of lips wrapped around his cock, his imaginary partner’s facial features hidden beneath dark hair. He knew who the man represented, but he couldn’t bring himself to name him.

For the past two weeks though, he hadn’t even been able to bring himself to masturbate. Not since he had looked down his body one morning and realized he couldn’t see part of his cock due to his expanding stomach.

It was a little bit awkward to think about sex when there was a baby belly right in front of your eyes.

Jim rolled over onto his side. The baby was changing everything about his body. He couldn’t jerk off because of him. He was always hungry and always nauseous, often at the same time. And the insane amounts of hormones pumping through his blood made him feel like a crazy person.

He had lashed out at all of his friends recently, though Spock and Bones had gotten the worst of it. He hated how irritable and frustrated he felt all the time. The only things that kept him sane were doing his paperwork, being on the bridge, and hanging out with Bones.

He wished he could add spending time with Spock to the list, but he hadn’t seen much of Spock recently. With Spock juggling the first officer and science officer positions, he was always busy. After he took over most of Jim’s face time with the crew, his free time had dropped to zero. Aside from when they were dealing with ship business, Jim hadn’t hung out with him in three weeks.

It hurt. Jim had thought they were closer than that. To be honest, it was why he got so angry when he realized Spock had done the paperwork for him. It had probably taken him two hours of free time—two hours they could have spent together.

Still, it had been a nice gesture. He could just as easily have left the paperwork to Jim and spent the time sleeping.

Jim sighed and buried his head in his pillow. He didn’t understand Spock, and he was beginning to think he never would.


	11. Chapter 11

  


**Chapter Eleven**  


  


Jim slumped down in his seat. Everyone on the bridge kept _looking_ at him, and it was pissing him off. So what if it looked like he had a twenty-pound tumor on his stomach? He was still the captain, and he deserved their respect, not their stares.

He glared down at his stomach, which looked ginormous thanks to his slouched position. He wanted to make a notation in the computer. _Captain’s log supplemental: shit sucks._

  
Image by [](http://jou.livejournal.com/profile)[**jou**](http://jou.livejournal.com/). [Posted here](http://st-reboot.livejournal.com/873394.html#cutid1). Used with [permission](http://st-reboot.livejournal.com/873394.html?thread=2858674#t2858674).

His internal grumbling was interrupted by Chekov. “There is a ship approaching off the port bow!”

“Starfleet?” Jim sat up straight. If he had to talk to another captain, he wanted his stomach to look as flat as possible.

Chekov shook his head. “I do not recognize the design.”

“I believe it is a Romulan vessel, Captain.” Spock placed the ship on the viewscreen, and zoomed the image in until they could see a curly design drawn along one hull panel. “The language is similar to Vulcan, but I cannot read it.” He zoomed the image back out, allowing them to see how quickly the ship was headed towards them.

Shit. This was just supposed to be a routine planetary survey. What were the Romulans doing way out here? Jim turned to the communication station. “Ensign Singh, get Lieutenant Uhura up here.”

“Aye, sir!” Her fingers flew over the input panel.

“Spock, put us on tactical alert. Sulu, bring us around. I want to face them head on.”

As they complied with his orders, he took a couple of deep breaths. His heart was racing, and he felt a bit lightheaded. His stomach felt odd too, as if he had gas bubbling around inside it.

Chalking his reaction up to adrenaline, he stood, hoping to make a better impression on the Romulan captain. “Ensign Singh, open a channel.” He waited for her nod. “This is Captain Kirk of the starship Enterprise. Please respond.”

They all waited quietly until Singh shook her head.

“Damn it! Try again.” Jim clenched his fists. “This is Captain Kirk of the starship Enterprise. Who are you?”

“They are charging weapons,” Spock announced.

“Bring the shields online. Charge weapons, but hold your fire.”

After a few tense seconds, the ship onscreen slowed.

“They’re responding!” Singh chirped.

“On screen.” The viewscreen image flickered to a view of the other ship’s bridge. Six Romulans glared at them.

“I am Enarrain Dai’nett,” barked a grizzly-looking Romulan seated in the middle of the bridge. “You have invaded Rihannsu space. Prepare to be boarded.”

Fuck his life. “I apologize for intruding in your territory. We were unaware the Romulan empire had holdings in this area. We will gladly leave, if you’ll just tell us where the boundaries of your space end.”

Dai’nett sneered. “You scanned our planet. Spying is not tolerated. Prepare to be boarded so that we can destroy the information.”

Jim held out his hands in a placating gesture. “We took only basic scans. We will transmit the information we gathered to you so you can verify this, and then we will leave.” He didn’t want these bastards on his ship.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw Uhura slip into the room. She nodded at him and took over Singh’s station.

Dai’nett growled. “Allow us to board, or we will destroy you, kllhe.”

Spock silenced the transmission for a moment. “Sir, their weapons are minimal. We should be able to disable them easily.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock.” Hands on his hips, Jim glared at the viewscreen. “There were no markers declaring this space yours. We did not trespass on purpose, and you have no right to demand access to our ship.”

“Are your ears full of llhrei’sian or just your fat belly, kllhe?” Dai’nett slammed his hands against his chair’s armrests. “Lower your shields!”

“No.” Jim caught Uhura’s eye. Suddenly the transmission began to flicker. “Oh dear. Looks like we’re having some technical difficulties. We’ll just be leaving now.”

Dai’nett’s face reddened. “Eneh hwau' kllhwnia na imirrh—” The transmission cut off, and the viewscreen switched back to an image of the Romulan ship.

Jim shook his head. “Uhura, what exactly did he say?”

She frowned. “I don’t think you want to know.”

Dai’nett had mentioned Jim’s belly. “I want to know.”

She sighed. “He asked if your ears were full of diarrhea or just your stomach, and then he called you a dung-eating-worm.”

Jim bit back a curse. “And that last bit?”

“It was an… obscenity.” She didn’t explain further.

“That bad, huh?” He wheeled around to face the screen. “Sulu, get us out of here. Warp four. If their weapons systems so much as flicker, shoot them.”

“Aye, captain,” echoed across the room. Jim took a seat and braced himself.

Sure enough, the moment they went to warp, the Romulans blasted them. The weapons fire narrowly missed their port nacelle.

“Return fire!”

Chekov sent a phaser blast across the other ship’s hull, but it was deflected by their shields.

“The Romulans are following us at warp four point two,” Spock reported.

“Sulu, take us to warp five.”

The ship rocked beneath them. “Shields at eighty-five percent!” Chekov shouted.

“Target their weapons and engines. I want them out of commission.”

The ship shuddered again, and Jim’s stomach rolled. While his morning sickness hadn’t been bad, he had still had some, and it was acting up now. He pressed a hand to his stomach and forced his lunch to stay _down_.

“Their shields are losing power,” Spock reported. He turned to look at Jim, and his brow furrowed. “Captain?”

“I’m fine, Spock.” Jim stood and moved to the helm. “Knock out their engines, now!”

Chekov targeted the other ship, but before he could fire, another blast rocked the ship. Jim was knocked off his feet. He fell to the ground, and landed on his stomach—hard.

The pain was intense. Jim vomited up the lunch he had so valiantly kept down before.

“Their engines have been disabled,” Chekov announced.

Jim tried to respond, but the pain rendered him unable to move.

“They have dropped out of warp. We are pulling away,” said Sulu. “Reducing speed to warp four.”

“Captain!” Uhura’s gasp brought the bridge to a standstill.

“Jim!” Spock rushed to his side. Kneeling, he pulled Jim into his arms.

Jim couldn’t even catch his breath. His stomach hurt so much. Something must have ruptured or crushed.

The baby. He was only nineteen weeks along. The baby would never survive outside of his body. What if Jim had killed him?

“Another ship is approaching,” said Chekov.

No, this couldn’t be happening. He needed to take care of his ship, but his baby…

“I’m taking the captain to sickbay,” Spock announced. He stood, pulling Jim up along with him.

Shaking his head, Jim managed to stabilize himself. “You need to be on the bridge.”

“ _Jim_ …”

He had never heard so much emotion in Spock’s voice before. Not since…

Uhura’s gaze moved back and forth between them. She stood and handed her earpiece to Singh. “I’ll take him.” She moved to Jim’s side, and he draped an arm over her shoulders.

Spock frowned, but acquiesced. As Jim limped towards the turbolift, he began issuing orders. “Mr. Sulu, increase speed. Ensign Singh, open a channel.”

Inside the turbolift, Jim collapsed against the wall. He cradled his stomach with both hands.

“Sickbay,” Uhura commanded. The turbolift began to move.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Uhura spoke. “Is the baby coming?”

Jim shrugged. “I don’t know. Everything hurts.” He didn’t have a uterus, so he wasn’t having contractions. His whole abdomen felt like a huge bruise.

The doors opened on the sickbay deck. Bones was waiting for them with two nurses and a stretcher. They helped Jim onto it, then wheeled him away.

“What happened?” Bones asked. He ran his scanner over Jim’s abdomen and frowned.

“I fell and landed on my stomach.”

Bones opened his communicator. “McCoy to sickbay. Prep for surgery. We have a ruptured amniotic sac with a nineteen-week-old fetus in apparent distress.”

Uhura kept up with them, running alongside the bed. Jim hadn’t really seen her, or even talked to her, since he got pregnant. He should have made an effort to explain things to her. He reached out and grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“You and Spock.” He squeezed her arm. “If I had known, I would never have gone down there.”

Uhura shook her head. “Now’s not the time for this.”

“It might be the only chance I get.” The medical team rushed through the doors of sickbay. Outside of the surgical bay, they stopped. He and Uhura were left alone as they began to prep for surgery. “I should have apologized before.” He released her arm.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. Spock and I… we had our issues.”

“Still, you could have worked it out.”

She shrugged. “Even if we could, we aren’t compatible. Melding with him… his mind was so structured. Everything was boxed up and tucked into hidden corners. No matter how I tried, I wouldn’t have been able to open all those boxes. I wouldn’t have been able to understand him.”

Jim couldn’t even imagine what she was describing. When he melded with Spock, it was more like being inside a computer. Each of Spock’s thoughts was a file within a folder within the machine that was his mind. He had easily been able to see and access any file he wanted.

“Besides,” she added. “You weren’t the one with a choice.”

“What do you mean?”

Uhura gave him an odd look, but before she could answer, Bones and his team were pushing Jim into surgery. As they moved him onto the surgical table, he pressed a hand to his stomach.

“You’ll be okay now, baby,” he whispered.

Bones grabbed a hypospray from a nearby tray. “It’s time, Jim.”

Jim nodded, and Bones pressed the hypospray to his neck. The room went black.  



	12. Chapter 12

  


**Chapter Twelve**

  


When Jim woke up, he was alone in the intensive care room. He pressed a hand to his stomach. It was the first time he had really touched his belly since he got pregnant. Underneath the layer of fat he’d developed, he could feel where his muscles had stretched apart to make room for the baby. He’d never have the tight abs he once had, but he didn’t give a damn. Not as long as his baby was alive.

“Are you okay in there?” Something in his stomach bubbled. Jim snorted. “What a time for gas.”

It bubbled again, right under his hand.

Or maybe it wasn’t gas… “Baby?”

The feeling came again, though it was more of a flutter.

Jim sucked in a breath. He’d been feeling the movement for a couple of days now, but he hadn’t connected the feeling to the fetus.

He pressed his hand against the flutter. “I am so sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have been on active duty. If I had been seriously hurt…” He didn’t want to think about it. He’d been reading up on the statistics in his free time. If the baby was born before twenty-two weeks, the survival rate was only ten percent.

The baby moved again. Jim absorbed the feeling. His baby boy was moving. He was really and truly alive. Jim had seen the images on Bones’ screen, but seeing them was like watching a movie. This was real.

“I’m not going to take any more chances. I don’t care if I have to stay in bed for four months, I’m going to keep you in there as long as possible.”

“Glad to hear it.” Bones nodded at him from the door. “You’re on strict bedrest from now on.”

“Is he okay?”

Bones pulled a chair up next to the bed. “For now. We were able to repair your amniotic sac, and we synthesized some fluid to replace what was lost. He’s swimming around happily, for the moment.”

Jim let out a huge breath.

“We have had to start him on steroids though. We’re probably going to have to deliver him within the month.”

“What’s wrong?”

Bones shook his head. “It’s more like what isn’t wrong? Your blood pressure has sky-rocketed. Your hormones are completely out of whack. And you lost a lot of blood during the surgery. We gave you a transfusion, but it’ll be a while before you’re back to normal.”

Jim nodded. “That’s fine. As long as the baby’s alright.”

“It’s not that simple, Jim. Your blood pressure has gone way up. You’ve developed preeclampsia. If it goes any higher, we’ll have to deliver.”

“No.” The baby fluttered, agreeing with Jim.

Bones frowned. “There’s nothing else we can do at that point, Jim.”

“Leave this baby inside me until the very last minute. I don’t care if it kills me.”

“If you’re dead, who’ll take care of him?”

“Spock.” Jim crossed his arms. “The baby’s Vulcan. He’ll raise him.”

“It’s not that easy!” Bones threw his hands in the air. “He gave up his rights!”

“No, he didn’t. I never filed the paperwork.” He looked away, not wanting to see the disapproval on Bones’ face.

“James Tiberius Kirk.”

“Shut up. You’re not my mother.” He didn’t understand what Jim was going through. The baby might need Spock. Jim couldn’t file the paperwork, not yet.

With a weary sigh, Bones stood up. “Have you noticed the way he looks at your stomach?”

“What?”

“Just… he might have signed those papers before he really thought it through.” Bones smiled sadly. “Losing your kid isn’t easy, believe me. He might have changed his mind.”

Jim had thought about that, hoped for it even, but anytime he mentioned fatherhood to Spock, he had replied that he was merely a “genetic donor.”

The baby fluttered.

For him, Jim would tell Spock. If Spock wanted to be the baby’s father, Jim would support his decision. If Spock refused again… well, all he had to do was hit a few buttons.

“I’ll tell him.”

Bones nodded. “Good. He’s been waiting six hours for you to wake up.” He opened the door. “You can come in now.”

He left before Jim could yell at him for not warning him he’d have visitors.

Spock entered. “How is your health?”

Jim struggled to sit up. When he couldn’t do it, Spock assisted him. His hands brushed against Jim’s stomach as they moved, and the baby fluttered.

“He’s moving,” Jim blurted.

Spock stilled, his hand hovering over Jim.

“You can try to feel it, if you want. It’s just a fluttering though. I don’t know if you’ll be able to.”

Spock didn’t move.

Jim searched his face, trying to understand what Spock was feeling. He was staring at his stomach, and Jim thought he saw longing in his eyes.

Quietly, he pulled his shirt up. There were bandages across most of his stomach, but the area where he had felt the baby moving was free of coverings. He grabbed Spock’s hand and pressed it to the area.

Spock closed his eyes. Together they waited until the fluttering came again.

“Did you feel it?”

Spock shook his head.

Disappointed, Jim released Spock.

“I was able to sense him,” Spock murmured. “His brainwaves are Human. His thoughts are not well-developed, but he seemed to be enjoying our voices.” His voice held a note of wonder.

Bones was right. Jim had to tell him. “Of course he enjoys your voice. You’re his father.”

In an instant, all emotion disappeared from Spock’s demeanor. “I am his genetic donor.”

“No, you aren’t.” Jim bit his lip, then forced it out. “I never filed the paperwork.”

Spock locked eyes with him. “You requested I sign them.”

“I didn’t think you’d want him.” Jim lowered his shirt. “I didn’t want to pressure you into being a dad, especially since you already had Uhura.”

“I do not regret his conception.” Spock seemed flummoxed by the very idea. “He is Vuhlkansu. His birth is celebrated.”

Another rote answer. “His genes don’t matter. What matters is how you feel.” Jim wrapped his arms around his stomach. “Do you want to be his dad?”

“I have no right to be his father.” Spock stepped away from the bed.

“Of course you do!”

He shook his head. “I have no right to be his father and I have no right to be your friend.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I should have told you immediately, but I did not want to lose your friendship.” Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “I violated you.”

Jim definitely didn’t remember that. Unless he meant when the baby was conceived? “We were drugged. It might not have been perfectly consensual, but you didn’t ‘violate’ me.”

Spock kept his gaze on Jim’s stomach. “I was not given the drug.”

“But you had sex with me.”

He nodded. “I copulated with you of my own volition. I took advantage of you, and I endangered your life.”

Whoa. On one hand, Jim could see what Spock meant. Having sex with someone unable to give clear consent was legally defined as rape. He didn’t consider what they had done rape though. He would happily have consented to sex with Spock even before being drugged. And the sex had been amazing.

That must have been what Uhura meant when she said he wasn’t the one with a choice. But then, what choice did Spock really have? Jim had kept getting worse, and the Enterprise hadn’t shown up to rescue them. Spock had only two choices: fuck or die. He had chosen the more logical of the two.

Still, Jim wasn’t sure what to think. Especially since no being given the drug meant that Spock had _wanted_ to have sex with him.

Did Spock still want to have sex with him?

Spock’s shoulders slumped. “I apologize for my actions. Please file the paperwork. I shall manage the Enterprise until you are able to return to duty, then I will leave the ship.”

“No, you will not!”

Jim wasn’t going to let his best friend and his baby’s father walk out of their lives. He knew what it meant to grow up with only one parent. He didn’t want that for his baby. And he didn’t want it for himself.

Spock was Jim’s rock. Without him, he’d never be able to run the ship or raise a kid. The distance that had grown between them since they had sex had proved that to Jim. Spock never wanted to be around him anymore, which made sense now. But Jim wasn’t about let a misapprehension end their friendship.

“What you did might seem like rape to you, but it doesn’t to me.” As awkward as it was, Jim forced himself to explain. “If you had approached me onboard the ship before that, I would have sprung at the chance to have sex with you.” Hell, he’d still have sex with him, baby belly and all.

Spock’s eyes widened. “You were drugged. You could not provide consent.”

“And neither could you.” Jim could remember that moment when Spock relieved himself from duty. He would never have done that if he hadn’t thought he was drugged. “You thought we would die. I might have been under the influence of medication, but you were under the influence of fear.”

“Vulcans do not feel fear.”

Jim shook his finger at Spock. “Oh, don’t tell me that. I’ve been inside your head. You feel, but you tuck it away where it can’t hurt you. Sometimes you need those feelings though. Sometimes logic isn’t enough.”

Spock wavered. “You could not give consent.”

“But I did. You asked for it, and I gave it. I meant it as much then as I do now.” Jim pressed his hand to his stomach. “I never would have asked to be pregnant, but I’m glad I am. I’m glad we had sex.”

Spock opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. Jim had never seen him at a loss for words before.

“Listen, Spock. I need you. I need you to help take care of this ship. I need you to help me explain what happened to Starfleet. And I need you to help take care of this baby.”

“I will assist you by any means necessary.” Spock straightened to parade rest.

His stiff posture and serious expression made Jim want to pull him close and show him how much he had enjoyed sex. Intellectually, he knew Spock was correct, but emotionally, he couldn’t consider what happened between them rape.

Especially now that he knew that Spock had wanted it. Had _enjoyed_ it. Because if he had liked sex once, maybe they could try again someday.

The baby moved, reminding him of his huge belly. Well, after the baby arrived they could try again. Until then… “Why don’t we play a game of chess while we draft our explanations to Starfleet?”

“I will retrieve the chess board.”

Jim watched Spock leave, his ass wiggling as he walked. Oh, yeah. He’d be suggesting sex as soon as his C-section healed.

His cock twitched at the thought, and he growled at it. Goddamn hormones. The next few months couldn’t pass fast enough.


	13. Chapter 13

  


**Chapter Thirteen**  


  


Admiral Barnett glared at them over the comm link. “Do you have any idea how sensitive this is going to become?”

Jim and Spock nodded in unison. They had agreed to face Command as a united front.

“We felt that, until the pregnancy had reached a viable stage, it would be best to keep knowledge of its existence quiet.” Spock folded his hands and placed them on the table before him. “Female officers are not required to report their pregnancy until the fourteenth week of pregnancy.”

Barnett scowled. “Kirk’s almost twenty weeks pregnant. You’re a month overdue.”

Jim shifted slightly in his electric wheelchair until he was able to mimic Spock’s position. “With all due respect, Admiral, women serving aboard starships are required to inform their captain and chief medical officer of their pregnancy. As both the captain and chief medical officer on board this vessel learned of the pregnancy within hours of conception, I believe I fulfilled the requirements.”

Jim’s logical statement didn’t make Barnett look any happier. “You know as well as I do that the regulations state that the CMO and _commanding officer_ of the individual in question are to be informed. Admiral Pike is your commanding officer. Is he aware of the situation?”

“No.”

“Exactly.” Barnett sighed. “You two are in charge of our flagship. You’re supposed to be the ship we send into battle if necessary. Do you honestly expect us to be able to do that if you have a baby on board?”

A small smile graced Jim’s face. “You do realize who you’re talking to, right? I was born in the midst of battle.”

Spock hadn’t spent a lot of time considering what it would be like to have a baby on the Enterprise. It had only been two days since he sensed the embryo. He was having difficulty grasping the concept that the tiny blob he had sensed would soon be a living being. A living being he would help raise.

“And look how you turned out.” Shaking his head, Barnett interposed a few graphs on the screen. “Consider this—Humans on board a ship are ten times more likely to die of unnatural causes than Humans on a planet or colony.” The graphs disappeared, revealing his irate face.

After losing his entire planet, Spock had few qualms about raising his son in space. “For Vulcans, the chance of dying from unnatural causes on board a starship is smaller than on a planet.” The murder of six billion people had greatly affected that statistic.

Sobering, Jim bumped his elbow against Spock’s. “Exactly. Life is too short. I’d rather show our son the universe than spend our lives grounded out of fear.”

“But the Enterprise wasn’t built as a family ship! You don’t have a nursery or a school or—“

“Then we’ll upgrade.”

Jim spoke as if he assumed it would be easy to prepare for a baby on board a starship. Spock had been considering everything the child would need, and the list was daunting. They didn’t even have the simple things like diapers and clothing ready. They hadn’t even begun to consider who would care for the child while they were working or where he would stay during the day.

Spock had considered offering to help Jim prepare, but he hadn’t wanted to intrude in the planning when he had no claim to the child. Now that he knew he still held parental rights, he had begun to wonder if he should install a crib in his room.

Jim sat back and splayed one hand over his stomach. “As you said, we’re the flagship. My people signed five year contracts to stay on board. Did you honestly think no one would end up pregnant in five years?”

“Yes! We wrote the requirement right into those contracts.”

Sensing that their argument was losing ground, Spock brought up a recent statute passed by the Federation. “According to statute 612.234, no Federation member planet or colony may create or uphold a law that stands in the way of a Vulcan pregnancy until the Vulcan population stabilizes at two-hundred thousand or more members. The embryo is twenty-seven percent Vulcan, which makes it eligible for Vulcan citizenship and protection under the law as a Vulcan.”

“Which renders our contracts null and void.” Barnett clenched his teeth. The veins in his neck stood out alarmingly. “You two have an answer for everything don’t you?”

Spock replied before Jim could give a sarcastic response. “We only want what is best for our son.”

Barnett’s brow furrowed. “ _Our_ son? You aren’t romantically involved, are you? Because if you are, there are about a dozen different forms you need to file to get approval.”

“Nope.” Jim patted his belly. “We both care about the baby, that’s all. We’re both equally his parents.”

That was something else Spock was having trouble grasping. Jim wanted him to be the baby’s father, even after what he had done.

He had avoided telling Jim the truth for months because he was afraid of destroying their friendship. It had become harder and harder for Spock to avoid the truth as Jim’s belly grew. Knowing that he had raped his best friend had eaten a hole inside Spock, one too deep to fill with work or meditation.

Confessing his offense to Jim had filled in some of the hole. Receiving Jim’s forgiveness had erased it completely. And in the place where the hole had been, something new was forming. Spock didn’t know how to define it yet, but he knew Jim and the baby were part of it.

“You see nothing wrong with your actions?”

“Of course we do.” Jim’s shoulders slumped. “We should have told the truth from the very beginning. But I didn’t want to be poked and prodded by doctors my entire pregnancy.”

That statement wasn’t a lie, but it did imply Jim hadn’t been observed during his pregnancy. McCoy had, in fact, assessed Jim’s health daily and subjected him to intense physical exams weekly. Nothing about his pregnancy had been left to chance. Currently, he was on strict bed rest and was not allowed on his feet for more than one hour a day, including the time he spent using the restroom and bathing. His diet was also being monitored, and he was taking a cocktail of drugs to keep his blood pressure and toxicity down and help the baby mature faster.

Barnett pursed his lips. “What’s done is done, unfortunately, and we’re going to have to deal with this as best as we can. Vulcan law requires that we allow Vulcan children to serve with their parents, so we can’t ground you. And as much as I’d like to demote you back to ensigns, the public would have a fit.”

Saving an entire planet tended to engender rabid loyalty in its populace.

“So, we’re going to act like we knew about this the whole time. It was an accident, but you two decided to step up and take responsibility. Extenuating circumstances and all that. We’re allowing you to keep the baby on the ship, as obviously being on planet doesn’t promise safety. We’ll paint a picture of you as a new-age family traveling the universe together.”

The image Barnett created was a poignant one. Spock wished it were truer.

“We can point out how much you’ve both lost. You’ll end up the media darlings of the Federation.”

Jim’s nose wrinkled as if he’d caught a whiff of Klingon cheese. “Been there, done that, never going back.”

“Too bad.” Barnett shook his finger at them. “Since we can’t discipline you overtly, this will be your punishment. And you will behave, or we’ll let the media interview you.”

“It is a reasonable consequence for our actions,” Spock said quietly.

Jim crossed his arms. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Then you shouldn’t have kept this a secret!” Barnett shook his head. “Never mind. I’ve got damage control to do, and I have to get authorization to retrofit the Enterprise with a nursery. But before I can do either of those things, I need to figure out what ship to send to deal with those rebel Romulans you ran into.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “More than one hundred years of peace, and they pick _now_ to cross the Neutral Zone?”

“We can deal with the Romulans.” Jim shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, Spock can.”

“I appreciate the offer, Kirk, but you’re in enough shit already without adding angry Romulans to the mix. We’ll be assigning you to some simpler missions for the next few months. You might not consider space dangerous for a kid, but I do.” Barnett nodded at them. “I’ll contact you after I discuss what you have said with the rest of Command. Barnett out.”

The screen went blank.

Jim groaned and slumped in his seat. “We are in so much trouble.”

“I believe the discussion went well.” They weren’t being removed from the Enterprise, nor were they being demoted. While Spock didn’t want to be thrust into the media spotlight, dealing with a few reporters was hardly a just punishment for the lies they had told.

“It could have been worse, but I really hate the media. There was always some paparazzi or another hanging around on my birthdays when I was a kid. They wanted the scoop on how I felt about my dad’s death.” Jim stretched his hands above his head. “Fuck them. They’re not getting anywhere near my baby.” He twisted side to side in his chair. His back popped, and he groaned. “I am so sore.”

“Would you like me to rub your feet?” Spock had massaged Jim’s feet several times earlier in the pregnancy, but his guilt over the rape had made touching Jim difficult. Eventually he had stopped offering, and Jim had never requested it.

“No thanks.” Jim turned on the wheelchair, then backed it away from the table. “It’s time to face the troops.”

Since Jim was allowed so little time out of bed, they had arranged to meet with the senior crew members directly after speaking with Admiral Barnett. They headed for the conference room, Jim leading the way. When he found out he wouldn’t be allowed to walk, he had requested Scotty rig up an electric wheelchair. He didn’t want to give up what little independence he had.

Nyota, Scotty, Sulu, Chekov, and Dr. McCoy were waiting for them in the conference room. Jim pulled up to the table where his chair normally sat; someone had moved it aside to make room for him. Spock took a seat next to him. They wanted to present a unified front when they explained the situation.

Scotty spoke first. “Ach, Captain, you don’t look so well. I’ve seen dead sheep that look healthier than you.”

Jim snorted. “Thanks, Scotty. Nice to know pregnancy suits me.”

Spock wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, but he refrained. Trust Jim to just blurt out the news.

Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov wore the same confused expression. Chekov blinked rapidly, then tilted his head to the side, assessing Jim as if he were a star chart. “I thought you were male, Captain.”

“I am.”

“I don’t think I heard you right then.” Sulu frowned. “I mean, you’re a guy.”

“Yep. And I’m pregnant.”

The men stared at Jim’s belly. Nyota watched Jim’s face. “How are you, Captain?”

Jim smiled at her. “I’m fine. My body’s not too happy about the baby though, so I’m going to be on bed rest until he pops out. It could be anywhere from four days to four months before I’m able to return to duty.”

“Plan for closer to four months,” McCoy interrupted. “We’re looking at a micro-preemie birth, which means he’ll probably be in sickbay for two to three months after he’s born, if not longer.”

“How did it happen?” Scotty wondered aloud.

“Remember that away mission about four months ago when Spock and I got captured? I was drugged. Spock saved my life, but in the process…” Jim patted his stomach. His hand lingered longer than necessary, and Spock wondered if the fetus was moving.

“Commander Spock is the father?” yelped Chekov.

The disbelief in his voice hurt. Spock could be a good father.

Jim nodded, his hand still pressed to his stomach. “Spock is the father. We have both elected to retain parental rights, and we are equally the child’s parents. Starfleet has agreed to allow us to continue serving on the Enterprise, and we need help preparing.” He turned to Scotty. “You and your team will have to set up a nursery. We’ll be assigning a yeoman to help care for him when we can’t. We’re also going to need things like a crib and a changing table in each of our rooms.”

A crib for his room? Spock hadn’t known Jim was expecting him to take that large of a role in the baby’s life. His stomach churned. He didn’t know if he would be able to care for an infant, especially a Human infant. He had no experience with children.

“Command okayed this?” asked Sulu.

“Indeed. Due to recent legislation, the Federation and Starfleet are required to make allowances for Vulcan pregnancies and child-rearing.” Which Spock appreciated, as it was likely the only reason they were being allowed to remain on the Enterprise.

“And since Command is fine with this, we need to start telling people. I need you guys to inform your underlings about what’s going on and why.” Jim straightened in his seat, his posture now ramrod straight. “Spock and Bones have written up all the pertinent information about the situation. I’d like you to each hold a department meeting and inform your people about what’s happening. Try to get everyone possible to attend the meetings; I don’t want gossip and hearsay spreading. The truth is bad enough.”

“Yes, sir,” said Nyota. The others echoed her.

“Good. This meeting is over then. I have a date with a biobed I have to keep.” Jim scooted away from the table. “Spock can answer any questions you have.”

Sighing inwardly, Spock nodded. “Goodbye, Captain.”

Jim waved and headed out the door, Dr. McCoy following behind.

Spock glanced at Chekov and Scotty’s faces. He could already imagine the thoughtless inquiries that would spill out of their mouths. Though, at least they weren’t scowling at him like Nyota.

This conversation was going to be absolutely _fascinating_.


	14. Chapter 14

  


**Chapter Fourteen**

  


Spock may have included too much detail in his description of how Jim would give birth. Chekov's eyes were wide with fright, and Sulu's face had scrunched up with disgust. Scotty, on the other hand, seemed to be calculating advanced physics in his head, judging by his intrigued-yet-thoughtful face.

"Perhaps we can transport the wee babe out!" Scotty announced suddenly. "It wouldn't take much to program the computer to extract all the bits, and we could cauterize the veins and all that nonsense at the same time." He frowned. "I think."

Not about to risk Jim's life to satisfy Scotty's curiosity, Spock shook his head. "While I am certain the Captain appreciates your curiosity, I believe surgery will be a simpler method of removing the fetus."

Scotty shrugged. "Suit yourself." He patted his stomach. "All this discussion of stomachs has mine grumbling. Any of ye want to join me for a sandwich?"

Chekov paled. "I do not think so."

"We need to tell the crew about the Captain's pregnancy." Sulu stood, then helped Chekov up. The boy wobbled, unsteady on his feet. "Though I think we'll make a pit stop at sickbay first."

"More sandwiches for me." Scotty gathered his padds and followed Sulu and Chekov out the door.

Spock and Nyota were left alone.

He cleared his throat. "I apologize if this conversation made you feel uncomfortable or—"

She narrowed her eyes. "I'll tell you what made me uncomfortable—finding out that you still haven't told Kirk that you weren't drugged."

Spock bowed his head. He didn't know how she had learned that he had kept it a secret, but she was correct. His behavior was disgraceful. "I confessed to Jim two days ago. He offered me forgiveness."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd claim you were lying. How could he forgive you so easily?"

He had asked himself the same question repeatedly. "His kindness is undeserved, but I am grateful for it. He is allowing me to be a part of the child's life."

"Huh." Nyota leaned forward. Propping her elbows on the table, she clasped her hands and leaned her chin on them. "Guess his daddy complex is working overtime right now."

"I do not understand all of his motivations, but he has not filed the paperwork negating parental rights. I am to be a full parent to the child."

At least, he was at the moment. Jim still had the paperwork in his possession, and should either of them change their mind, he could file it in mere seconds. To have his child ripped away would wound Spock. The mere thought made his heart clench with a pain he had not felt since his mother's death.

Nyota sighed deeply, her shoulders drooping. "Maybe this was meant to be. You're so good with kids, and well, you know how I feel."

He did know. After he proposed bonding, children had naturally entered the conversation. She had confessed that she loved kids, but she didn't want them until she had accomplished certain goals in her life, such as attaining the rank of admiral and translating a dozen new languages into Standard. At the time, Spock had despaired of ever having children, as her goals had seemed so immense and lofty as to be unachievable. Certainly they would take her twenty or thirty more years, during which time her body would age and become unable to conceive naturally. Even with medical intervention, a fifty year old Human could not easily birth a child.

He had locked such thoughts away at the time, as her life and her body were her own, and she deserved to be able to make such decisions herself.

While not one to believe in fate or destiny, Spock appreciated the fortuitousness of Jim's pregnancy.

"Though, I wonder what kind of a father Kirk will be."

"He is an admirable captain and a kind friend. He will indubitably become a good father."

She snorted. "If you say so. Seems to me that if you can't follow rules, you can't make someone else follow them either."

"Captain Kirk adequately enforces the rules aboard the Enterprise. Crewmen who cannot follow the rules are fairly disciplined in accordance with their infractions."

She held up her hands in a placating gesture. "Alright, I get it." She smiled, but the edges of her mouth drooped. "I'm finally starting to get it."

"What is it that you 'get'?"

"Why didn't you tell him you weren't drugged?"

The Human habit of answering a question with a question frustrated Spock. "I did not wish to explain to my commanding officer that I had raped him."

"Wrong."

"Wrong?" Spock was the only person who could correctly answer the question she had posed. Claiming his truthful answer was incorrect was preposterous.

"If Jim were only your commanding officer, you would have told him as soon as he regained consciousness. You didn't tell him because he is your _friend_."

Spock considered her statement. "There may be some logic to your thoughts."

She rolled her eyes. "And you didn't tell him because you love him."

Spock's heart sped up in his chest. "I am Vulcan. I do not experience love."

"Tell that to your dad."

 _I married your mother because I loved her,_ Sarek had once said.

Spock's feelings for Jim were not love though. He merely wished to spend time with Jim and care for him. They were friends; such urges were reasonable.

Reaching across the table, Nyota clasped his hands in her own. “When I hold your hands, how do you feel?”

Spock sensed through their contact that she was sad, frustrated, and slightly amused. He could easily read the thoughts floating at the forefront of her mind. _Why do I have to help these numbskulls get together?_ she thought-grumbled.

He pulled his hands from hers. “It is improper for me to touch you in this way.”

“Why?” She tried to hold his hands again, but he tucked them beneath the table. “It doesn’t bother me at all. It’s what I’d do if I were trying to soothe any of my friends.”

He squeezed his hands together under the table. “It is too… intimate.” He had no right to delve into her mind. A Vulcan shared their mind freely with their bondmate and none other.

“When was the last time you held Jim’s hand?”

“Two days, three hours, and twenty-four minutes ago.” He would forever remember the first time he sensed his son’s mind.

The corners of Nyota’s mouth tilted upwards. “And did you pull away from his touch?”

“…No.” He had been too focused on the fetus.

Her slight smile grew. “Didn’t it feel too intimate?”

It should have felt intimate. He had pressed his hand to his friend’s stomach, felt his excitement and amazement, and sensed their son growing beneath their joined hands. It _was_ intimate, but it _felt_ right.

“I do not love him,” Spock said at last.

“Why not?”

Reasons slipped through Spock’s mind faster than he could pin them down. He could not love Jim because he was male. Except Spock had always been equally attracted to men and women. He could not love Jim because he had to help the Vulcan species repopulate. Yet Jim had already helped him do that. He could not love Jim because his father would not approve. His father had not approved of Nyota, and he had planned to bond with her anyway. Every excuse he considered he was quickly able to refute.

Except one. Spock could not love Jim because Jim did not love Spock.

He knew Jim. His captain was a brash, bold, and beautiful man. He was also uninterested in maintaining a steady relationship with anyone except the Enterprise. Jim had confessed as much to him one night when they were discussing Jim’s new yeoman and her crush on him. He had claimed that so long as he remained captain, he had no interest in being with any of his crew.

“He is the captain. He cannot be with a subordinate without risking his position.”

“And yet, he’s already been with you.” Nyota stood and walked around the table to take a seat beside him. He could tell she wanted to touch him again, but she refrained. “Think about it. He’s already risked his career for your baby. What makes you think he wouldn’t risk it for you?”

“I do not love him.” Spock pushed away from the table and stood. “He is my friend.”

“And you are his.” She stood and clasped him by the shoulders, forcing him to look down at her. “Think about it. He forgave you for taking advantage of him. He wants you to be the father of his child. He loves you.”

Spock wanted to believe her words, but he could not. He had studied the romantic gestures of Humans while he was dating Nyota. Jim had never sent him presents or attempted to kiss him. Even after they copulated, Jim had continued to respect his personal space. They had not eaten any romantic dinners together. They had not stared at the stars, a sunset, or any similar astrological event while holding hands. Simply put, there were no indicators in Jim’s behavior that he felt anything for Spock aside from friendship.

He shook off Nyota’s grip. “I am terminating this conversation. I must attend to my duties.”

She looked up at the ceiling and let out a huff of air. “Alright.” She brought her gaze back to his face. “Go. But don’t be an idiot. When you realize you’re in love, tell him.” She turned to leave, but he heard her mumble, “Men and their emotions.”

Spock remained in the conference room after she left. He attempted to center himself. The emotions broiling inside him made that difficult. He wasn’t even sure what to call some of the feelings she had evoked. He labeled the ones he recognized, tucking them away in his mind where they belonged. Anxiety, anger, desire, fear, frustration, loneliness, and hope were all put away in their separate spaces.

Never before had Spock felt so many emotions at the same time. And yet, there was still one last feeling inside of him. He had no name for it, but when he thought of Jim, that emotion screamed out at him with both pain and pleasure.

The feeling was too much for him to handle. Grabbing hold of it tightly, he forced it to leave his mind. Taking long, deep breaths, he calmed his heart rate. As his body entered a more restful state, so did his mind.

He focused on what he needed to do. Jim was expecting him.

Spock made his way to sickbay, stopping along the way to deal with a few problems and accept the congratulations of crew members who had already heard about the child. He accepted their well-wishes as gracefully and quickly as he could.

At last, he made it to sickbay. He entered the intensive care room and found Jim in the midst of a conversation.

“Pike, I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to tell you…” Jim struggled to sit up in the bed. Spock stepped to his side and assisted him, conscious of their commanding officer frowning at them from the nearest display.

“Didn’t have a chance?” Admiral Pike’s lips thinned. “You’ve had almost eighteen weeks to deal with this. How hard is it to comm someone?”

Jim glanced down. He fiddled with his sheet, pulling it up so it covered his stomach. “I wanted to tell you face to face, and I just… never got around to it.”

Pike sighed. He leaned forward, his face filling the screen. “I’m not angry, Jim.”

Jim looked up, his eyes wide. “You aren’t?”

“No.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t come to me. Number One and I have been together for almost five years now; I’m the last person who would be upset about a captain and a first officer falling in love.”

Spock swallowed hard, his mouth dry. “We are not in love.”

Jim’s hands clenched on his sheet. “It was kind of a do-or-die situation.”

“But I thought Vulcans…” Pike glanced back and forth between them. “Huh.”

They all froze for a long moment before Pike cleared his throat.

“Well, regardless of your relationship status, congratulations on the baby. And on convincing Command that you should stay on the Enterprise.”

Spock bowed his head in acceptance. He held much respect for Pike, and though illogical, he appreciated his blessing.

Jim smiled and lowered his sheet. “Thanks.”

Pike’s face softened into a smile. “So you really are pregnant. Crazy.”

“Exactly.” Jim rubbed his stomach gently. “No one’s going to believe this until they see the kid.”

“Now that you mention it…” Pike smirked. “It’d be like you to try such a crazy prank. I know Spock wouldn’t let you though.”

“Nope.” Jim glanced up at Spock, his face alight with mirth. “Spock keeps me on the straight and narrow.” He grabbed Spock’s hand and squeezed it. “Right, Spock?”

Through their connection, Spock could feel Jim’s amusement and relief. He nodded absentmindedly in response to Jim’s question, his consciousness focused on the feel of Jim’s hand in his.

Touching Jim didn’t feel uncomfortable. He relished the intimacy of knowing Jim’s thoughts.

Jim and Pike continued to converse. Spock attempted the follow the exchange, but he kept focusing his attention on their clasped hands. When Jim at last withdrew his hand in order to make a gesture, Spock expected to feel relief.

Instead he felt bereft. He wanted to hold Jim’s hand again. He craved the soft brush of Jim’s mind against his own. He wanted to have that connection forever.

He wanted to bond with Jim.

The thought shot through him like a lightning bolt. He wanted to bond with Jim. He wanted to marry Jim. He wanted to have everything with Jim because Jim was his everything.

Spock took a deep breath and interrupted the other men’s conversation. “I must go. I need to contact my father before he learns of the child from someone else.”

Jim winced. “Is he going to be okay with the baby?”

“The fetus is Vuhlkansu. He will be pleased.” Spock raised his hand in the ta’al. “Live long and prosper, Admiral.”

Pike responded with a nod. “Take care of yourself, Spock.”

Having said his farewells, Spock fled the room. He headed for his own cabin. Once there, he turned on his display and sent a comm request to his father. It was late evening on New Vulcan. His father was presumably at home, meditating.

As Spock had predicted, Sarek accepted the comm link. He appeared onscreen. Though he was seated in his office, his mediation robe was draped over his shoulders. “Spock. Why have you contacted me at such an hour?”

“I wished to inform you of the situation at hand.” Spock forced himself to appear calm, even though his heart was racing. “Seventeen weeks and five days ago I impregnated my captain.”

Sarek’s gaze sharpened. “Continue.”

“We were being held hostage by hostile aliens. They dosed Captain Kirk with a fertility drug that threatened to injure or kill him. I chose to copulate with him in order to negate the effects of the drug.”

Sarek raised his eyebrows. “This is why you and your sworn one broke ties?”

“We did not terminate our association due to that event.” At least, they had not dissolved their engagement solely because of that event. “Nyota and I are mentally incompatible.”

“You are obviously compatible with your captain.” Sarek tilted his head to the side, studying Spock. “Will you bond with him?”

In his father’s gaze, Spock sensed no judgment. Since Amanda’s death, they had come to respect each other more. Yet, he could not bring himself to speak of his emotions. “I do not believe so.”

Sarek frowned. Spock was shocked to see his father betray such strong emotion. “The child is Vuhlkansu. You will care for it.”

“Of course. His birth shall be celebrated.”

“Then you should bond with James Kirk.”

Spock did not understand. Surely his father would consider their union illogical? Jim could produce no further children. “There is no need to bond. We will share parental rights and responsibilities.”

“A Vulcan child develops best in a household with two parents. You and Kirk collaborate well, and you are compatible. Bonding is logical.” Sarek settled back in his seat. “But the decision is not mine to make. I shall simply offer my approval, should you decide to bond.”

Logical and yet illogical. That seemed to be the definition of anything that concerned James T. Kirk.

Spock inclined his head. “I will consider your recommendation.”

“Very well.” Sarek held up the ta’al. “Peace and long life to you and your offspring.” He lowered his hand. “If your mother were here, I believe she would add ‘Congratulations’.”

His throat suddenly tight, Spock murmured his farewell and ended the comm.

If his mother were still alive, he could have gone to her to discuss the feelings that were flooding through him. She would have told him to follow his heart, as she often had. Spock didn’t want to follow his heart though.

He did not want to love Jim. Not if Jim did not love him in return.


	15. Chapter 15

  


**Chapter Fifteen**

  


"Bridge to Captain Kirk."

Jim lowered his padd to his lap. He had been on bed rest for almost four weeks, but his work never ended. He leaned over and pressed a button on the control panel. "Go ahead."

"You have an incoming comm from New Vulcan, sir."

"Thank you. I'll take it here." He released the button and settled back into his bed. He had been waiting almost five weeks for this call.

He took a deep breath, then activated his display. Spock appeared, a small smile on his weathered face. Relaxing, Jim smiled back.

"Hello, Jim." Spock tilted his head to one side. "I received your message when I arrived back on planet today. I assume you wish to speak to me about your pregnancy."

Jim sighed. “The news spread fast..."

“I was informed of your situation soon after my arrival on planet. The scientific community on New Vulcan is ecstatic over the idea that they may be able to double the pool of potential child-bearers.”

Jim snorted. “Tell them not to get their hopes up. Male pregnancy sucks.”

“I offer my congratulations nonetheless. I wish I could inform you that all will turn out well, but this is not a situation my Jim and I encountered.” He pursed his lips slightly. “I am curious as to how this happened.”

“Well, it all started when we were scanning flowers on a pre-warp planet…” Jim explained what had happened, leaving out the dirtier details. Talking about sex with someone old enough to be his great-great-grandfather seemed wrong.

Spock nodded along, but he did not say anything until Jim finished. After a long pause, he spoke. “In my time, we never made contact with that planet. They were still a pre-warp community when I left.”

Jim rested a hand on his belly. The baby didn’t move; Jim thought he was sleeping. “Would the other me have kept the baby?”

“I do not know.” Spock stared at him through the comm. “I do not believe he would have aborted the child, but he might have considered adoption. My Jim wanted to explore the universe. He did not have the appropriate temperament to raise a child.”

That was something Jim worried about himself. He had no real examples of how a father should act, unless you counted the ones he read about in books and saw on vids. He was impatient and temperamental. How could he raise a child when he could hardly take care of himself?

But then, this kid would have Spock too, at least, as long as Spock decided to stick around.

“If you had ended up on that planet, in the same situation, what would you have done?”

He tried to pose the question innocuously, but inside he desperately wanted to know the answer. Had his Spock saved him simply because it was the right thing to do? Or had he wanted to help him?

Spock frowned, the wrinkles around his lips deepening. “Later in life, I would have done all I could to save Jim’s life. At my counterpart’s age, however, I avoided all emotion. I could not have conceived of having sex—not unless I had lost control due to illness or drugs.”

Jim sucked in a breath. “But Spock hadn’t lost control.” In fact, he had been very careful to make sure that Jim agreed to the sex and that they both declared themselves unfit for duty. Someone who was under the influence of drugs or an illness wouldn’t do that.

Spock inclined his head. “So you said. I believe my counterpart will realize his feelings much earlier than I did.”

“Feelings? Like love?” The display blurred slightly. Jim shook his head to clear his vision.

“Nothing so shallow.” Spock’s eyes looked towards the sky, his gaze fixed on someone beyond both of their views. “You cannot understand now, but t’hy’lara go beyond love.”

Jim’s head swam. Spock had mentioned a similar word once. T’hy’la were supposed to be soulmates. His vision blurring more, Jim blinked rapidly. “Spock and I… are we t’hy’lara?” His heartbeat pounded in his chest.

Spock’s face turned back to him, but his features were too hazy to make out. “I cannot say. Our katras, our souls, have been shaped by different events.”

“But you and your Jim?” He shifted in bed, trying to get comfortable. He felt tense, beyond what the conversation should be causing. His heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his head.

“Indeed.”

With that one word, Jim’s heartbeat leapt out of control. His racing pulse set off multiple alarms, filling the sickbay room with a cacophony of shrieks and whistles.

“Jim, are you alright?”

Jim could hear the concern in his friend’s voice, but he couldn’t see him. His vision had blurred to the point where he could not see his padd in his lap. Jim tried to shake his head, but he couldn’t seem to control the muscles in his neck.

In fact, he couldn’t control any of the muscles in his body. He collapsed back against the bed. The door opened and Bones rushed in.

“Dammit, Jim, what are you doing? You’re going to kill yourself!” He whipped out his tricorder. “Elevated blood pressure. Rising heart rate. You’ve entered eclampsia levels. We’re going to have to operate.”

 _No!_ Jim wanted to scream. He wasn’t even twenty-four weeks along. The baby had just gotten to one and a half pounds. His lungs weren’t strong enough.

And Spock wasn’t there. He had promised he’d be there when the baby was delivered. Jim wanted Spock. Jim _needed_ Spock.

His body wouldn’t let him voice his anxiety. Instead, his muscles began to twitch. He could not stop them. The tremors began in his fingers and toes and spread like wildfire up his arms and legs.

“Damn it, he’s seizing!” Bones dropped the scanner on the bed and quickly grabbed a hypospray. A nurse ran into the room. He depressed the hypo in Jim’s neck, then threw it at her. “Get me 20ccs of metrazene!” As he paused to wait for her to retrieve it, he noticed Spock on the screen. “I don’t know who you are, but you ought to know better than to upset a pregnant man!”

Jim wanted to explain that Spock hadn’t hurt him, but the spasms were strengthening. His own excitement had probably done this. Knowing that Spock had sex with him because he wanted to and not out of loyalty or necessity made him want to jump and shout.

“I believe it was his own emotions that caused this state,” Spock said quietly. “I will end the transmission now though, in case my presence is worsening the situation.”

No, Jim didn’t want him to go. If he couldn’t have his Spock, he wanted some Spock, any Spock.

The display went black. Jim let out a wordless cry that ripped through his throat. As he did, his muscles tightened. His entire body grew taut, his back arching up as his arms and legs drew inwards. He wanted to scream in pain, but his throat tightened, refusing to let any sound out.

“I hope this baby is ready,” Bones grumbled as the nurse handed over the hypo. “He’s coming out now, whether he likes it or not.”

He injected the medicine into Jim, and his vision grew dark. He was losing consciousness, his muscles pulled taut as a guitar string. He struggled to stay awake. He wanted to tell Bones that he was okay, that they could wait until the baby was bigger and Spock could be there.

The darkness pulled him under.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

  


The Romulans attacked at 1600. The alert that Jim was being prepped for delivery arrived on the bridge at 1601.

Spock may have gotten slightly upset when the ensign manning communications informed him. The wide eyed stares of the other crew on the bridge and the tears welling up in the ensign’s eyes made it obvious that shouting his response was inappropriate. However, there were two Romulan warbirds shooting across their bow and his t’hy’la was having their baby without him. Even Sarek would not scold him for showing his emotions. Well, he wouldn’t scold him much.

Focusing his attention on the task at hand, Spock called for reports.

“Damages on decks nine and ten. They’re minor, but the hull has been weakened.”

“No injuries have been reported.”

“Shields are up. Weapons are charged and ready.”

Spock took a seat in the captain’s chair. Grasping the armrests, he fixed his gaze on the Romulan ships. “Disable their engines.”

Two torpedoes smacked into the other ships. The recoil rocked the Enterprise.

“Their shields are holding.”

“Fire again.” Spock tightened his grip. “Follow with phasers.”

Just as they released two more torpedoes, the Romulans fired on them. Enterprise trembled beneath the weapons fire, throwing people into their control panels and to the ground. Spock braced himself against the armrests and managed to stay in his seat. “Report!”

“Our shields are holding. The Romulan ships took no damage, but the shields of the warbird off our port side are failing.”

“Focus our next volley on the port warbird.” He took a deep breath and kept his grip on the armrests tight.

He wanted to race down to sickbay to be with Jim, but he couldn’t leave the bridge. They had been following these rogue Romulans for two weeks now. They needed answers as to why they had traveled past the Neutral Zone. Admiral Barnett had been against the mission from the beginning, but Jim and Spock had declared that they could still handle the tough stuff. Barnett had reluctantly agreed, as he had no choice. No other Starfleet ship capable of holding its ground in a fight against Romulan warbirds was available.

Thanks to Admiral Pike’s support and Barnett’s ability to turn the baby into positive press, the rest of the council had agreed to let them remain in command. Spock believed that Sarek had probably intervened with some of the more hesitant council members in order to ensure unanimous support. If Spock screwed up their first assignment since the decision was made, he and Jim would be removed from the Enterprise and the reputations of those who supported them would be put in doubt.

So he remained on the bridge throughout the hour-long battle. Then he assisted Security in arresting the captains of the Romulan vessels and interrogating them. When they learned that the Romulans were working without the approval of the Romulan government, Spock wrote up a quick report and sent it off to command. They would contact the Romulan government to determine how to deal with these rogues.

The most important aspects of their mission complete, he checked in with Scotty to make sure that repairs were underway, helped fix a bulkhead that had been destroyed in the fight, and made his way to sickbay where he ascertained that no crew members had been severely injured during the battle.

At 2138, over five and a half hours after he learned Jim was being prepared for surgery, Spock entered the intensive care ward.

Jim was asleep. Spock crept to his bedside. He looked the same as he had before, minus the large belly. He knew that McCoy had planned to remove all traces of the baby during the surgery. Since Jim’s stomach was now nearly flat, Spock assumed he had been able to do so.

A tiny mewling sound grabbed Spock’s attention. He noticed the artificial womb that had been placed on the other side of Jim’s bed. He crossed to it and peered inside.

A miniscule infant lay in the middle of a large white pad. An artificial umbilical cord had been attached to his stomach. The majority of the oxygen and nutrients he needed would be transported into his body through the cord, but his chest was rising and falling as he breathed on his own. The mewling sound came again, and Spock realized it was the baby’s cry.

Gloves were built into the womb so that they could touch him without introducing pathogens to the sterile environment. Spock slipped his hand into a glove. He stroked the baby’s tiny pointed ear. He turned his head towards Spock’s finger, his lips searching for something to nurse on. He had the beginnings of a rooting reflex—a good sign that he would do well on his own.

The baby’s tiny lips grasped the tip of Spock’s finger. He suckled for almost thirty seconds before pulling away when he realized no milk would be forthcoming. The tiny face crumpled. He opened his mouth wide and let out a loud mewl.

Jim’s eyes opened. “Baby?” He looked to the side. “Spock!”

“I am here.” Spock shifted closer to the biobed.

Jim smiled. “Did you see our baby?” His gaze fell to the artificial womb.

Spock nodded. “He is very small.”

“Too small.” Jim laid a hand on the side of the womb. “I haven’t even gotten to hold him yet. Bones woke me up after the surgery, but he was already in that thing.” His hand trembled as he caressed the glass.

Spock withdrew his hand from the glove. With both of his hands, he clasped Jim’s trembling one. “Have your health issues been resolved?”

Jim shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t awake for very long before, but Bones did say I’ve fucked up my blood pressure for the rest of my life.”

Spock squeezed Jim’s hand. He didn’t appear upset, but Spock could feel his overwhelming anxiety pouring through their connection. “Dr. McCoy will certainly be able to treat something as simple as high blood pressure.”

“I’ll probably never be allowed to eat a bacon cheeseburger.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Spock quirked an eyebrow, and Jim burst out laughing.

“Ouch!” He tugged his hand away from Spock and pressed it to his stomach. “Don’t make me laugh, I’m too sore!”

The baby mewled again.

Jim’s attention moved immediately to the infant. He straightened up, the pain disregarded in favor of studying the baby. “Hey little guy.” He scooted to the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Perhaps he is hungry.”

“I would be.” Jim pressed both hands to the womb. “I wish I could take you out, little buddy, but we have to wait for Uncle Bones.” He pushed the page button on the womb’s control panel.

McCoy bustled into the room so quickly Spock wondered if he’d been waiting outside the door. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s crying.” Jim stuck out his lower lip. “I know he’s supposed to get all his nutrients from the artificial umbilical cord, but I think he’s hungry.”

McCoy shook his head. “I’ll bet he heard your voices and wants to know what’s going on.” He began to unlatch the womb. “Go wash up in the sonic sanitizer and you can hold him for a few minutes.”

Spock helped Jim climb out of the biobed. Every movement made Jim cringe from the pain in his abdomen. He hobbled over to the sanitizer. Spock waited while the sanitizer ran through its cycle, then he took a turn in it while Jim made his way to the biobed.

When he emerged, Jim was back in bed. McCoy carefully settled the baby into his arms. Jim held the baby’s head in one hand, and his feet just barely reached the elbow of that arm. “He’s so tiny,” Jim murmured.

“He’s twelve inches long and weighs one pound, nine ounces.” McCoy tucked his blanket around him more securely. “He’s actually a big boy for his age.”

Jim trailed a finger over one of the baby’s ears. “He looks like you, Spock.” He peeked under the blanket covering most of his head. “His hair’s dark like yours.”

“Vulcan traits are dominant.” Still, Spock was surprised that his son’s skin bore the same green tone as his own. He knew the baby’s heart was Vulcan, but he had assumed his blood would be Human. Studying the infant, he could not find any trace of Jim in him.

McCoy cleared his throat. “I’m going to dim the lights to reduce the environmental stimulation.” He lowered the lights by fifty percent. “His nervous system is underdeveloped. It’s very easy to overstimulate it.”

Jim nodded slowly, distracted by the baby in his arms. “How long can I hold him?”

“I’d like to give you time to bond with him, but he can’t be out of the womb for more than ten minutes.” McCoy headed for the door. “I’ll be back to tuck in him then. If anything happens, page me.” He slipped out of the room.

Spock appreciated the privacy. He approached the biobed.

Jim looked up at him. “Spock, this is our baby.” He tugged the blanket away from the baby’s minute hand. “Baby, meet Spock.”

Spock touched the tiny palm with his fingertip. The baby was too small to grasp his finger, but his hand curled into the touch. The skin to skin contact allowed Spock to sense the baby’s utter serenity. "I would offer him the traditional birth-greeting, but I do not know what name you have chosen for him.”

“I haven’t picked one. I thought you might want to help.” Jim caressed that tiny ear. “I was thinking of Human names, but he looks so Vulcan.”

Spock shook his head. “He will have your eyes.”

“How can you tell?” Jim’s finger trailed along the side of his face. “They won’t open for another month.”

Spock had no logical reason for believing the baby would inherit Jim’s brilliant blue eyes. In truth, it was merely his wish that the infant bear some resemblance to his t’hy’la. “He is more Human than Vulcan. I hope that he will want to know more about his Vulcan heritage, but I have no wish to deprive him of his Human one.”

“In that case…” Jim grasped Spock’s hand, gently clasping the baby’s hand between theirs. “How about Grayson?”

Spock’s mother’s maiden name. “It is perfect. _Keshtan ne’shau stukhtra_ , Grayson. Welcome to the universe.”

Through their joined hands, Spock could feel Jim’s happiness and Grayson’s contentment. There was nothing wrong about the touch, about the intimacy that they were sharing. In fact, Spock craved a deeper connection.

He made eye contact with Jim. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted to bond with his t’hy’la and to raise their son together.

He took a deep breath, then stroked Jim’s cheek with his free hand. “Jim.”

Jim’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the touch. “Yes?”

“Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. Will you form such a—”

The door of the room slid open. McCoy bustled in, a hypospray in one hand. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time to tuck in the little one.”

Jim pulled away from Spock’s hands. “So soon?”

So soon indeed. “By my calculations, it has only been seven point two minutes since you left the room.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “Ten minutes was an estimate. His body temperature has dropped by half a degree. He needs to be in the warmth of the womb.” He set the hypospray on the edge of the bed and leaned down to take Grayson.

Jim reluctantly released him, and as McCoy lifted him, Spock lost contact with both of them. His hand clenched into a fist, missing their touch.

“Alright, little fella. Let’s get you settled.”

“His name is Grayson,” Jim said softly.

“Grayson Leon Kirk,” Spock added.

McCoy and Jim both looked at him with wide eyes. “Leon?” McCoy asked.

“The name is a derivative of Leonard. I assumed you knew that.”

McCoy snorted. “You named your goddamn kid after me and you continue to insult me.” He grumbled under his breath, but his movements as he lowered Grayson into the womb were even gentler than before.

Jim simply smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Spock hadn’t thought through the name before he announced it, but now that he had said it aloud, it sounded right. Though McCoy was by no means his favorite person, he was an exceptional physician and Jim’s friend. As Vulcans traditionally named their children after people who had honored them, it was a suitable middle name for his son. Not that Spock would explain his reasoning to McCoy.

Once McCoy had latched the womb, he grabbed up the hypospray. “Time for you to hit the hay too, Jim. For the next few weeks, I want you sleeping a minimum of twelve hours a day—even if I have to drug you to get you to do it.”

Jim held up his hands. “You won’t get any arguments from me. I feel like I got hit by a shuttlepod.”

“Agreeing with me isn’t going to keep you from getting hypoed.” McCoy depressed the hypospray in Jim’s neck.

“Did you have to give me the strong stuff?” Jim yawned.

“Yep. Night, Jim.” McCoy headed for the door. “I’ll check on you in a while. Goodnight, Spock.”

“Goodnight, Doctor.”

By the time the door slid shut behind McCoy, Jim’s eyelids were drooping. Spock wanted to begin his proposal again, but now was not the time. Holding back a sigh, Spock rested his hand against Jim’s cheek. “Goodnight, t’hy’la.”

Jim’s sleepy smile was interrupted by a yawn. “Oh! Night, Spock.”

Spock waited until Jim’s eyes closed and his breathing evened out before he pulled his hand away. He checked on Grayson, using the glove to stroke his back for a few minutes. Finally, he reduced the lights to twenty percent and slipped out of the room.

He knew what he wanted now. He wanted Jim and Grayson, and as soon as he had a chance to be alone with Jim again, he would ask him to bond.

Before that though, he would take the time to prepare the paperwork for Starfleet regarding the change in their relationship. They’d been forgiven for going around the regulations once; Command wouldn’t be so easy to persuade a second time.  



	17. Chapter 17

Jim greedily reached for his son as Bones pulled him out of the artificial womb.

Bones didn't relinquish Grayson. "Relax, Jim. You've got an entire hour with him, as long as his vitals stay strong. There's no need to rush."

"This is his first time leaving sickbay!" Jim carefully took his four-week-old son into his arms. He supported the head, as Bones had shown him, and carefully wedged him into his elbow. "Can you blame me for being excited?"

Bones shook his head. "No, not really. You two go on now. The audible alarms are on, so if you hear his monitor beep, you need to get back here as soon as possible."

Jim had been planning this moment for three days, ever since Bones had agreed to let him take Grayson to see the stars. He knew how to handle any emergencies.

Waving goodbye to Bones, he walked through sickbay and out into the hall. Two corridors down there was a small passageway with huge windows. He headed there.

When he reached the right hallway, Jim walked to the windows. They were currently traveling at impulse through a planetary system, so he could see several moons orbiting a planet nearby. Beyond that, star-filled space stretched in every direction. “Look, Gray.”

Grayson hadn't yet opened his eyes, so Jim knew that showing him the stars was sort of silly. Still, if he was going to raise his son in space, then the first thing he should experience was space itself. He held Grayson up, angling him so he faced the window.

"See that out there? That's the universe. You and me, we're going to explore it.”

Grayson wiggled at the sound of his voice. When Jim stopped talking, he crumpled up his face.

"What's that look for? You don't like the idea of the two of us going on adventures?"

He mewled.

"You'd miss your daddy, huh?" Jim ran a finger over his pointed ear. "Yeah, I'd miss him too."

Jim had honestly thought after Grayson was born that Spock wanted them to be together. He'd willingly touched Jim's hands and face, and Jim had thought he'd called him "t'hy'la" as he was drifting to sleep. But since that night, he'd barely seen Spock. Thanks to the issue with the Romulans, Spock was working his butt off covering the captain, first officer, and science officer positions all at the same time. Jim wished he could help more, but Bones had only let him off bed rest a week ago. He was still off-duty officially, but he'd been doing some paperwork and talking to command about the mission for the past couple of days. In fact, he was still wearing his yellow command shirt over his pajamas. He had wanted to appear professional over the comm.

Neither of them had any time for each other, and what free time they did have, they spent with Grayson. Bones and the nurses took good care of him, but both Jim and Spock wanted to be the primary caregivers whenever possible. They took shifts. Spock took the evening shift while Jim slept, Jim took the early morning shift while Spock slept, and both of them spent any free time they had during the day with him.

Grayson shivered, his whole body trembling in Jim’s arms. He quickly checked the portable monitor. Grayson’s temperature was down by a whole degree.

“Poor guy. You get cold as easily as Spock does.”

Jim wasn’t ready to go back to sickbay, but he hadn’t brought anything with him to keep Grayson warm. Cursing his stupidity, he sat down on the ground. He placed Grayson in his lap, propping his head very carefully, and then stripped off his command shirt. With gentle movements, he wrapped the shirt around Grayson. He pulled part of it over his head, but he tucked it behind his ears. Jim loved to look at those tiny little points. Along with the green cast of his skin, they reminded Jim of Spock.

After standing up, Jim arranged Grayson so that one ear was pressed to Jim’s heart. Bones had explained that the familiar beat of Jim’s heart was comforting for the baby, though Jim wasn’t sure how well Grayson could hear it. Even if the position didn’t do much for Grayson, holding his son close calmed Jim.

Jim stared out at the stars once more. Even with Grayson held close, he felt a sudden wave of loneliness. He shook his head. It was just the post-pregnancy hormones making him emotional. “The two of us will have grand adventures. We’ll be like the Two Musketeers. You for me, and me for you.”

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/stella_notecor/pic/0000h24g/)  
Image by jou. [Posted here](http://st-reboot.livejournal.com/873394.html#cutid1). Used with [permission](http://st-reboot.livejournal.com/873394.html?thread=2858674#t2858674).

“I believe the original manuscript involved Three Musketeers.”

Jim turned towards Spock’s voice. He smiled as Spock entered the passageway. “How long were you standing there?”

“I arrived just prior to you swaddling Grayson.” Spock drew closer. His chest pressed up against Jim’s side as he leaned forward to touch Grayson’s forehead. “He seems content now.”

Jim glanced at the portable monitor. “He’s warming up.” He expected Spock to step away, but he merely straightened. The points where their bodies met tingled.

“You spoke of Two Musketeers,” Spock said quietly. “Have you changed your mind regarding my parental rights?” His face remained calm, but he looked away.

“No!” Jim shook his head as vehemently as he could without disturbing Grayson. “I want us to be a family.” He reconsidered his phrasing. “I mean, I want Grayson to have two parents. I want him to have you.”

“Do you have the same desire for yourself?” Spock met his gaze.

Jim had never been great at talking about emotions. His philosophy had always been ‘actions speak louder than words.’ So he took action.

Stretching up, he captured Spock’s lips in a soft kiss. Spock responded, bringing a hand up to Jim’s face to pull him farther into the kiss.

When they had sex, they had shared only one violent kiss. That kiss had been short and abrupt. There had been no emotion in it beyond lust.

This kiss was entirely different. It stretched longer as it deepened. Jim reveled in the sweetness of it, in the fact that he was kissing his first officer, his best friend, his everything. Spock completed him, and the gentle press of his lips cemented that fact in his mind.

They broke apart. Jim’s heart raced in his chest, though Grayson didn’t seem to notice. “When Bones said it was time to deliver Grayson, you were the only person I wanted.”

Spock cupped Jim’s cheek. “I wanted to be there.” His fingers slid apart, coming to rest in the mind meld position. “May I?”

“Yes.”

Spock slid into his mind.

Joined, Jim could hardly tell where he began and Spock ended. Their minds were a never-ending galaxy, their thoughts the stars and planets that populated it.

_Does everybody’s mind look like this?_

_No. Your life and personality shape how your mind appears to you. Our personal images are very similar._

_You are the planets. You miss Vulcan._

_And you are the stars you have spent your life reaching for._

_I don’t want to leave this place. It’s so peaceful._

_I concur; however, Grayson will need us shortly._

_Can we bring him into the meld? Is he old enough?_

_I can try._

The meld grew shallow, and Jim was able to bring his focus back to the physical world. Grayson rested contentedly in his shirt-blanket.

Spock laid his free hand on Grayson’s face. An awareness joined them.

Grayson appeared as a blob of light. He radiated contentment at them, his happiness as bright as a sun.

_He is our sun, the center of us._

Spock’s poetic thought made Jim smile. Their shared peace made Grayson glow brighter.

_He can’t think words yet, can he?_

_No, he won’t develop that ability until he begins to understand words, around three or four months old._

_Too bad. I’d like to know what he’s thinking._

Grayson’s light dimmed dramatically.

_What’s wrong?_

_Nothing. He is simply pulling away from the meld. I will release us._

Spock ended the meld. Jim glanced down at Grayson, expecting to find him sleeping. He wasn’t. “Spock! He opened his eyes!”

“His first glimpse of the world distracted him from the meld.”

Grayson looked up, his eyes meeting Jim’s for the first time. “Hi. It’s me, your daddy.”

He stared at Jim. His gaze wavered a little, as he couldn’t hold his eyes still yet, but his sober contemplation of Jim reminded him of Spock. “You certainly are your other daddy’s son.”

“But he has your eyes.”

His eyes were mostly pupil, but there was a ring of light blue around the edge. That blue would probably darken, as Jim’s genetic profile called for dark eyes, but his own slightly premature birth had left him with poor eyesight that had to be healed. While Jim would never wish medical problems on his son, he almost hoped Grayson would need the same procedure so that they could share their eye color.

Jim glanced at Spock, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Grayson since they ended the meld. “Do you want to hold him?”

Spock reached for him, and Jim carefully settled him into Spock’s arms.

Grayson’s gaze moved to Spock’s face. One eyebrow twitched upwards on his face. Spock’s face mimicked the expression.

Jim laughed. “He thinks you’re ‘fascinating’!”

“Infants cannot control their facial muscles at this age.” Spock touched the tiny eyebrow, causing it to fall to a more normal position. “However, I believe you are correct.”

“Fatherhood is making you illogical,” Jim teased. He leaned into Spock’s side. Knowing that he was allowed to touch Spock made his chest tight.

“Indeed.” Spock used his free hand to stroke the back of Grayson’s hand. As he pulled away, Grayson reached out, as if to grab him.

[ ](http://tinypic.com/r/r2neoh/6)  
Image by latenightarting. [Posted here](http://st-reboot.livejournal.com/873394.html#cutid1). Used with [permission](http://st-reboot.livejournal.com/873394.html?thread=2858674#t2858674).

Spock took hold of Grayson’s hand, letting him curl his tiny fingers around his thumb. Seeing the two of them connect made Jim’s chest ache. He wanted nothing more than to gather both of them into his arms and never let them go.

Grayson chose that moment to crumble up his face and let out a mewl. Jim sighed. “Hungry already? We’ve still got fifteen minutes of freedom!”

His son didn’t like that idea. He mewled again, his cry much louder this time.

“Well, at least your lungs are growing.” Jim smiled at Spock. “He’ll be screaming at us before you know it.”

Spock cringed slightly. “We should take things one step at a time. At the moment, we must return to sickbay to give him a feeding. Afterwards, I propose we request Dr. McCoy watch Grayson while we discuss altering our relationship. I have already drawn up relationship approval paperwork, but it will take approximately seven days for command to verify our change in status.”

Jim tugged Spock’s hand away from Grayson. Twining their fingers together, he used the connection to pull him towards sickbay. “Or instead of waiting a week, we could make Bones babysit while we go have sex.” He winked. “I think we’ve already proven that it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.”


	18. Chapter 18

Spock carefully fed his son through his feeding tube. He had only just begun to develop a sucking reflex. In about two weeks they would attempt to feed him using a bottle. Once he was able to eat on his own and regulate his own body temperature, Dr. McCoy would allow him to leave sickbay, though he would still be attached to monitors and potentially on oxygen.  
  
After he finished the feeding, Spock placed his son back into the artificial womb. McCoy reattached the cord, and reset the temperature and oxygen levels. He patted the top of the womb. “He’s safe and snug. You two are free to go… discuss things. Just don’t ever tell me about it.”  
  
Jim chuckled. “I want Spock all to myself; I wouldn’t share those details if you begged me.”  
  
“That’s something you’ll never have to worry about.” McCoy wrinkled his nose. “Now shoo.”  
  
Jim patted the womb. “Night, baby. Call us if he wakes up, okay?”  
  
McCoy nodded and waved them away. Spock followed Jim out of sickbay. They walked through the corridors to their rooms in silence. Tension thrummed between them. Spock’s heart rate increased as they approached Jim’s room.  
  
Knowing what they were going to do when they stepped through that door made Spock’s stomach clench. The last time they had sex, Jim had been drugged out of his mind. Spock had simply guessed at what to do based on the information he had about human sexuality. He had no idea if he could please a sober Jim.  
  
“Lights to eighty percent,” Jim commanded as they entered the room.  
  
Spock glanced around. The room was the same as always, Jim’s bed tucked in a corner behind a screen, his desk dominating one half of the room, and the table where they played chess off to one side. A new addition to the room was the crib, which had been wedged next to Jim’s bed for easy access. On the table, the chess board had been tidied away, and neat piles of tiny blue, green, and yellow clothes were waiting to be placed in drawers. Even the desk looked different, as it was covered in small stuffed animals and trinkets for Grayson to play with as he grew.  
  
It looked wrong. Not because of what had been added to the room but because of what was missing. Spock wanted to see evidence of himself in the room. He wanted to be in Jim and Grayson’s lives, in every part of their lives.  
  
With that thought in mind, Spock stripped off his outer shirt and draped it on the back of a chair.  
  
Jim blinked at him. “Um… you know, I was mostly teasing about having sex. I’m still pretty beat up from the surgery.”  
  
Spock’s stomach unclenched, but he had to hold back a frown. He wanted Jim, even if he didn’t know whether he could please him.  
  
“I do not need sex, but I would have your mind, if you agree.”  
  
Jim dropped his own shirt on the table. “Of course.” He slipped off his shoes, leaving them in the middle of the floor, and headed for the bed. Already in his pajamas, he made himself comfortable. “You coming?”  
  
Spock removed his shoes and socks, tucking them under the chair where his shirt hung, then stretched out next to Jim. Face to face, they stared at one another for a long moment.  
  
“This is safe, right?” Jim grinned. “Normally things that feel that good lead to broken bones or allergic reactions.”  
  
Spock placed his fingertips on Jim’s meld points. “The only risk is that our minds may instinctively bond. An improperly formed bond can cause distress.”  
  
Jim leaned into the touch. “We’re due at New Vulcan in a week though. We could fix it then, right?”  
  
Under his fingertips, Jim sparkled with joy and contentment. “Do you wish to bond?”  
  
“Absolutely. This… us… I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” Jim closed his eyes. He smiled softly. “I don’t really know how to describe it, but ever since I’ve met you, I’ve felt… complete.”  
  
That echoed exactly how Spock felt. Within Jim, he had a best friend, someone he felt closer to than a brother, and—soon—a lover. They had the kind of friendship he had seen his mother and father share.  
  
They were t’hy’lara.  
  
As soon as Spock thought it, he knew it was true. There was no one else in the world for him. He had loved Uhura, but that love hadn’t compared for the soul-deep connection he shared with Jim.  
  
“T’hy’la,” Spock whispered.  
  
Jim grasped his free hand, entwining their fingers. “Soulmate.”  
  
Spock began the meld. He sank into Jim’s mind even faster than before. He reached Jim’s center quickly, and he knew Jim was just as deep inside him.  
  
 _Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. I swear myself to you.  
  
And I swear myself to you. I want to bond. Can we do it now?_  
  
Spock felt for the connections of his and Jim’s mind. Bonding required shoring them up and making them permanent. Already they were stronger than any Spock had ever felt in a meld.  
  
 _I believe I can bond us. Are you ready?  
  
Yes!_  
  
Spock sent his awareness through the connections at the same time as he drew Jim’s consciousness towards himself. Their minds met at the boundaries. He struggled to force them to cross the barrier, but neither would move.  
  
Jim’s consciousness wavered. _Here… just take this part._ A small section broke off and crossed over into Spock’s mind. A thread remained between it and Jim, connecting them.  
  
Spock allowed his own awareness to split. It jumped over the barrier and settled into Jim’s mind. He could still feel it, but it was distant.  
  
Confident that the two pieces had solidified into their new spaces, Spock withdrew from the meld. He pulled his hand from Jim’s face, but could still sense his emotions.  
  
Jim blinked rapidly. “I can feel you. And I can sort of hear you.” _Can you hear me?_  
  
“I hear the thoughts you direct towards me.”  
  
 _Can you hear that I want you to kiss me?_  
  
“Not until you wished me to hear it.” Spock leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jim’s. The bond gave new depth to the kiss, allowing Spock to feel a slight echo of the sensation’s Jim felt. He deepened the kiss, wrapping his free hand around the back of Jim’s neck and pulling him close.  
  
Kissing Jim was like kissing sunshine. He radiated warmth and joy that Spock wanted to bask in for hours.  
  
“McCoy to Kirk.”  
  
Unfortunately, even minutes were precious when you had an infant to care for. Jim pulled out of the kiss. He sat up and pressed the button for the comm. “Go ahead.”  
  
“He’s awake. Guess his last feeding wasn’t enough for him. Do you want give him some more, or should I do it?”  
  
Jim glanced over at Spock and sighed. “No, I want to feed him. I’ll be there in a minute.” He ended the comm link and flopped onto his back. “You know, when I first got pregnant, I considered going back to the planet and getting more of that drug in case I ever wanted to give Grayson a sibling.”  
  
Spock pressed a hand to Jim’s stomach, which was now almost back to its original size. “He will have to be content to be an only child.”  
  
Jim grinned. “I think he’ll be spoiled enough for ten kids. Which is good because as often as life kicks my ass, I’d rather not get kicked from inside ever again.” He hauled himself out of bed.  
  
Spock made to get up and Jim shook his head. “It’s my shift with him. You get some sleep. Once I’ve fed Grayson, I’ll join you.”  
  
He padded out of the room. Spock crawled under the covers. He buried his head into a pillow that smelled like Jim. In the back of his mind, he could feel Jim’s contentment when he reached sickbay and their son.  
  
Jim’s room was a far cry from the prison cell where everything began. Spock hadn’t enjoyed what happened on that planet, but he didn’t regret it. Not when it led him to everything he had ever wanted.  
  
  
  


**The End**


End file.
